


Laying Hands

by Alienspawn



Category: Avengers, MCU, Marvel, Thor - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Physical hurt/comfort, Romance, Slow Burn, Violence, friendship turn romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 36,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25267348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alienspawn/pseuds/Alienspawn
Summary: After over a decade, Althea Parks has resigned herself to a life of isolation and experimentation. She doesn't fully understand her ability, and apparently neither do those who keep her locked away from the world. When Earth's mightiest heroes intervene and invite Althea to join their ranks, she is given the chance to live the life she'd given up on.A passive captive of his brother and the insufferable Avengers, Loki idly passes the days in seclusion, confined to Stark Tower in the very city he almost destroyed. While Thor maintains hope for Loki's redemption, the rest of the world hasn't forgiven the God of Mischief's past. Loki appears unfazed by his poor reputation, but when the team brings back a mysterious new recruit, Loki finds he may just yearn for a second chance after all.Unfortunately for them both, new beginnings don't mean an end to their troubles.Set post Dark World, the story creates its own AU where Loki and the Avengers have a chance to be maybe happy and, you know, not die. I don't own any Marvel characters, story, or other I.P. All artwork is my own unless otherwise noted.
Relationships: Loki/OC, Loki/OFC, Loki/Original Character, Loki/Original Female Character
Comments: 58
Kudos: 95





	1. A False Peace Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Hail and well met!  
> This is my first time delving into creative writing in years and my first time ever putting something out into the world for public consumption. Whatever criticisms, advice, or opinions you want to share are more than welcome.  
> This is a long, slow burn. I promise your favorite trouble maker shows up to stir up shit in his own time. All good (or naughty) things to those who wait.

The sky was a perfect, unmarred plane of blue, not even a hint of cloud. Beneath it, a pristine expanse of green grass extended to the horizon. Every blade seemed new and fresh, without a spot of brown or bare patch to be seen. A simple, one lane dirt road bisected the field. Even the soil of the pathway was rich with color, a mixture of brown, red and orange. A few feet off stood a solitary tree. Other than a slight leftward lean, it too was nearly flawless; it's rough bark unmarked, unbroken branches ending in full foliage, each leaf a dark, vibrant green. It was the middle of a bright, sunny summer's day, and the only shadow in sight was the shade of the lone tree.

Althea stared at the picture, searching for any detail that might have escaped her countless examinations. There was nothing. It was just as mundane and utterly boring as it had always been: an unnaturally perfect photo of a nameless, nondescript place. Still, it was the only thing to look at in the painfully plain room, the only thing of note in her white-washed quarters, so she continued to study it. 

The colors seemed too bright, she thought, oversaturated, though she couldn't be entirely sure. It had been years since she'd had even a glimpse of the outdoors. Maybe life outside the structure really was as vivid and colorful as her stale poster. She tried to remember the places and sights of her life before confinement, but the memories were vague and nonspecific. She had taken everything for granted back then, never bothering to stop and appreciate her surroundings or commit much of anything to memory. She couldn't even identify the type of tree pictured before her. She knew a few by name: oak, maple, birch, walnut, but she didn't remember which was which. 

Althea's life didn't have trees anymore. It didn't have green grass or blue skies or sunny days. There weren't even any windows to tease her with glimpses of the outside world. Everything here was either white or stainless steel: undecorated and sterile. The only break in the monotonous palette was the blood, and even that had stopped being interesting long ago.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Althea almost blended in with her surroundings. Her grey sweatpants and tee were both a size too large for her lean frame. She was slightly taller than average, close to six feet tall, and even the oversized pants ended a few inches above her ankle. Below, her feet were clad in simple, worn slippers - the same uninteresting grey as the rest of her outfit. Her complexion was an unhealthy pallid shade of white, translucent along the thin skin of her wrists and inner arms, evidence of her long separation from sunlight. Even her dark brown hair was dull and lifeless. Other than the garish picture on the wall, the only spots of color in the room were Althea's eyes. Their hazel irises bordered on green, flecked with gold and surrounded by a ring of deep, mahogany. She looked ghastly, something not dead but not quite alive either.

She was twenty five years old. She had been here for over ten years, though Althea had lost track of time long, long ago. 

The heavy padding of hurried footfalls outside the door to her room roused her from her revelry. She braced herself gripping the edge of the mattress, expecting the door to fly open, but they passed without pause. The sounds of running faded as they continued out of earshot and the room fell back into silence. Still, she looked at the door curiously, dread creeping steadily up her spine. She'd never seen anyone in the building run before. The place and the people who operated here ran like clockwork, everything done with calm, military-like precision. 

Something was wrong.

No sooner had the thought occurred to her, than the building shook with the reverberation of a distant explosion. Althea's grip tightened and she held her breath, listening for any sign of what was happening. For a split second there was only silence as debris and dust particles dislodged by the shock wave fell all around her. He poster fell forgotten to the floor. Then the hallway was filled with the commotion of dozens of men running down the hall in the direction of the blast. They shouted at one another, their words indecipherable through the door and walls of her room. Soon the shouts turned to screams, some of fear, some of pain, the heavy sounds of boots making in the opposite direction. Whatever had caused the disturbance seemed to be coming this way.

"Secure the asset!", came a strong voice above the commotion. Suddenly the door to her room was thrown open by a haggard looking guard. His dark grey uniform, standard issue for most of the personnel, was dusty and torn near the shoulder, revealing a steadily bleeding gash. His opposite hand held a large handgun, finger resting on the trigger. He panted a few ragged breaths before addressing her. 

"Come with me, NOW," he demanded sharply. 

Despite her fear, or perhaps because of it, she got up to follow him without hesitation. For years she had done as these men commanded and now, amongst the confusion and chaos, did not seem like the right time to start being defiant. She hadn't taken more than two steps towards him when, with a flash of blue light, he disappeared swiftly from view, sent sprawling down the hall by some unseen force. 

He was quickly replaced by another armed and uniformed man. He didn't pause to order her to follow, instead he gripped her forearm roughly, dragged her out of the room, and started quickly down the hall. They were joined by three more men in quick succession. Together, the four of them surrounded her as they escorted her with speed away from the sounds of combat. 

She struggled to keep up, tripping over her ill-fitting slippers and she was pulled along. As they turned a corner, Althea heard someone gaining on them, but the man's vice-like grip kept her stumbling forward, preventing her from turning around. 

She heard the sound of something flying through the air, a flash of red and blue, and then all four men were on the ground, the leader's hold on her arm dragging her down with them. She struggled free and braced herself for whatever assault was sure to come. 

When nothing happened, she cautiously turned to face the assailant. Since the explosion, countless images of soldiers or terrorists or even simple thugs had raced through her mind. None of her imagined invaders came close to the assembled group that stood before her.

A metal man, gleaming gold and fire engine red, hovered a few feet off the ground, small blue flames from his hands and feet keeping him aloft. Beside him, a masked man held a large round shield, presumably the object Althea had witnessed take down her escort. His outfit was glaringly patriotic: red, white, blue, starred and striped all over. The other two members of the odd quartet were dressed rather normally compared to the first pair, both dressed in simple, dark outfits. The woman brandished a pair of pistols; the man an unassuming bow with an arrow nocked and ready to fire. 

"Keep an eye on her. We'll finish clearing the floor," the shield bearer addressed the archer. "Don't let anyone by." Without waiting for an answer, he ran past Althea and around the corner, the remaining two following close behind.

Althea's assigned guard positioned himself near the corner, allowing him a clear view down both hallways. He spared her a passing glance, but said nothing. He maintained his silent vigil, arrow at the ready, until his three companions returned.

"Looks like everyone's cleared out. They left a pretty obvious trail. Fury's gang should be able to round up most of them." The armored man's voice had a metallic ring as he spoke.

"Seems like she's the asset from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intel," the woman gestured to Althea, gun still in hand. Althea started a bit as the weapon waved towards her. "We found a pile burnt documents, and it looks like someone's wiped all the hard drives. Whatever they were doing here, whatever they were doing with her, they didn't want us to find out."

All four turned to look at Althea, still cowering on the floor, surrounded by unconscious uniformed men. Three pairs of eyes scrutinized her. The metal clad mask was unreadable. 

"Who are you?" Thea breathed, finding her voice. Had these four costumed strangers really cleared the entire facility? More importantly, were they here to hurt her? She had gotten so used to being surround by armed guards that she'd forgotten they carried weapons for a reason. 

The faceplate of the metal suit retracted, revealing a middle aged man with a neatly cropped goatee. He looked at her suspiciously, clearly surprised at her question. "We're the Avengers, kid." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Thea didn't react. "Earth's mightiest heroes?", the man offered, as if trying to jog a memory he was confident she had only temporarily forgotten. Althea's only response was a quizzical look. He scoffed, turning to the masked soldier beside him. "I think I'm actually a little offended."

The other man let out a quick, amused huff before addressing the thoroughly perplexed woman on the ground. His eyes were soft, and he gave her an easy, kind smile. "We're the good guys," he clarified, and held out his hand to help her up.


	2. First Freedom

Althea was full of questions, but couldn't seem to work up the nerve to voice any of them to her curious group of new escorts. She was led out of the building, which, she realized as she looked at it from the outside for the first time, was more of a bunker. She barely had time to enjoy her first moment outdoors before she was ushered to a futuristic looking plane. Not that the site had been much to look at. In all her daydreams of escaping and fleeing into nature, she had imagined more trees and green and less mud and smoldering rubble.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. is on its way," the red haired woman informed the rest. She spoke flatly, with an air indifference. "I'll stick around and get them up to speed. See you back at home." She turned to make her way back into the structure.

"Nat," the man in red, white and blue called after her. "Don't tell them about the girl just yet."

She shot Althea a curious look but didn't argue. She gave a curt nod and continued walking.

Once everyone was seated and the plane had taken off, introductions were made. Captain America, or Steve as he insisted she call him, seemed to be their leader. Althea had a vague memory of her days at school, of learning about an old war propaganda persona by the same name. From what she could recall, the character was costumed man who fought Nazis and other "enemies of freedom", or something cheesy like that. She wondered if Steve was honoring the vintage hero, or if it was a mantle of sorts, handed down from generation to generation.

Hawkeye, the archer and current pilot, was actually named Clint. He didn't say much. She debated if he was simply concentrating on flying the advanced aircraft or if he never said much at all. Either way, his cold persona kept Althea on edge.

Tony Stark went by Iron Man. Althea doubted his bright red and yellow suit was actually made of iron, but whatever high-tech metal it consisted of probably didn't make a very catchy alias. He was Hawkeye's polar opposite, talking incessantly the entire flight. He insisted he was deeply offended she had never heard of him or his apparent acts of heroism. His ego was immense, that was clear, but he was no less charming for it.

"What's your name?" Steve asked kindly.

"Althea," she answered quietly. They waited for her to provide more information, but she said no more.

"So, Thea," Tony started, shortening her name as casually as he did most things, "what do the big baddies want with you?" He looked her up and down, looking for some sign of her apparent value.

She didn't respond. She was glad to be out of that building, flying farther and further away from the horrors she had endured there for so long, but she didn't trust these men either. They said they were "the good guys", but she couldn't be sure. It was better to keep her secret as long as she could, or until she knew for sure she wasn't in danger.

"They called you an asset," he pressed, his eyes serious. "I assume you're not just some random pretty face in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Althea looked at her feet, pressing her mouth into a firm line. She tried to think of an explanation that wouldn't give her away.

"We only want to help." Steve put a reassuring hand on her knee. Althea jumped slightly at the unexpected physical contact, but fought the urge to flinch away at his touch. "You don't have to tell us right away," he removed his hand, holding his palms towards her to signal he hadn't meant to scare her. "It can wait until you're ready."

Tony looked back and forth between Steve and Althea. He seemed a little unsure of Steve's decision not to press her for answers, but let the subject go. "How about family? Is there anyone looking for you we can contact?"

Althea only shook her head sadly. As far as she knew, the only family she had was long dead and gone. The loneliness of her situation started to sink in. Her melancholy was quickly replaced with anxiety. What was to become of her, the orphan shut-in, ignorant of the world and burdened with secrets. Assuming she wasn't trading one prison for another, how could she hope to make it on her own?

She didn't speak for the rest of the flight, half listening to Steve and Tony bicker and strategize in turn. Her mind raced, trying to envision what would await her at the flight's conclusion.

After about half an hour they arrived at their destination.They landed smoothly, and as the doors opened, Tony gestured for her to follow them out.

Her first taste of the outside world in years, the few yards between the underground structure and the Quinjet, had been an overwhelming cocktail of sight, sound, even smell. Even so, it had been a rather depressing sight; nothing like the bright, picturesque fields of the poster in her room. This, though, put that oversaturated image to shame. This was breathtaking. The skyline before her left her at an utter loss for words. She stood on a helipad, situated near the top of the tallest building she had ever imagined with the whole of Manhattan on full display. The sky was covered in clouds, each a different shade of pink, orange, and purple, as the sun set behind the buildings. Innumerable windows reflected hues back at her, turning the city into a glittering mosaic of warm luminosity. The world as she knew it, which had previously consisted of little more than a series of white-washed rooms, now stretched endlessly to the horizon in an explosion of color.

Thea was too transfixed to hear the discussion of the three men behind her.

"If we're not turning her over to S.H.I.E.L.D., what are we going to do with her?" Hawkeye asked his companions.

"Whatever Hydra did to her, she's clearly scared. It doesn't seem right to turn around and put her in another frightening situation. So we'll keep her here until she's ready to talk. Once we figure out more, we can decide our next steps. In the meantime, we keep an eye on her, show her that we can be trusted," Steve answered.

"I'm sorry Cap, but in case you haven't checked the giant lettering up there lately," Stark gestured dramatically at his name towering above them, "this is my building. Don't I get a say in whether or not she gets rent-free room and board?"

Steve sighed, "Do you have a better idea, Tony?"

"No I'm totally cool with it. I just think it's polite to ask."

"And what if she's dangerous," Hawkeye pressed, throwing a suspicious glance in Althea's direction. "If Hydra was so interested in her, she could be a threat. She might be some sort of weapon. She wouldn't be the first."

The three of them looked at Althea who, entranced by the scenery, was still oblivious to their conversation. She looked gaunt in her thin outfit. The worn, grey sweatpants and t-shirt hung loosely from her hips and shoulders. Her slippers were damp and muddy from their walk to the Quinjet. Transparent, pale skin revealed the blue veins of her arms and emphasized the dark circles under her eyes. Even her hair, a dark chestnut, was dull and unhealthy looking, cut roughly and unevenly below her shoulders. Everything about her told of a life spent entirely indoors without physical exercise or proper diet.

"Now that you mention it she does look rather terrifying," Tony remarked sarcastically. "But if it puts your mind at ease, Clint, I'll do some investigating. "Hey! Kid!"

His call shook her out of her transfixed admiration of the city. She turned to face them, eyes still wide with wonder.

"Do you have any plans to, I don't know, blow anyone up or murder us in our sleep? Anything like that?", he asked her, peering over his sunglasses.

Althea looked appropriately shocked by the question. "Wh-what? No. No! I don't... I couldn't. I mean I wouldn't..." she stuttered, trying to imagine what she had done to give him such an idea.

"Well that's me satisfied," Tony interrupted her rambling, throwing Clint a wry grin. "Welcome home then!" He threw his arm open wide, smiling. "Let me give you the tour."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, still no Loki. I’m sorry, but they’re in the same building now so they’re sure to run into each other soon... right?  
> I sure hope my attempts at dialogue do the characters justice. Loki may be my numero uno, but Tony sure is fun to write.
> 
> A quick turn around between chapters because A) it was already written before I had the courage to post the first chapter and B) I was thrilled to bits at the response this story is already getting.  
> Unfortunately, I’m going back to work soon So future chapters will be a little more spaced out, but what’s life without a little anticipation, right?


	3. End of Introductions

Tony Stark was clearly very rich. If having his own skyscraper hadn't been an obvious clue, the casual glamour of the interior of the building certainly reflected his wealth. The open floor plan and comfortable living areas were a far cry from Althea's previous arrangement with the group she now knew as Hydra.

Tony proudly escorted Althea through the building, showing her to the lounge first. A large sunken floor was ringed by deep, plush couches. A long row of window cushioned seats ran along the floor to ceiling windows of the room, looking extremely warm and inviting even in setting sun. The bar occupied pride of place near the center of the room, and he boasted that it held just about every liquor ever produced. One wall was dominated by huge bookshelves. Combined, they contained more books than Althea had ever seen outside the public library she had frequented as a child. On another wall hung a massive television screen, and she marveled at how thin the electronic was. Technology had certainly advanced during her years in confinement. The space had a small kitchenette stockpiled with various drinks and snacks as well as a large round table with room enough to seat ten, at least. Tony informed her he had once tried to initiate a game night, his tone indicating the attempt had not gone well. 

A few floors down, the kitchen proper was no less impressive or technologically advanced. Tony pointed out various appliances, going over their functions with dizzying speed. Some looked familiar, others looked to her like something straight out of an episode of Star Trek. Even the refrigerator was outfitted with it's own display panel, though Althea couldn't fathom what possible purpose they could serve. It was a cold box; why would anyone feel the need to attach a computer to something so simple?

Steve, who had joined them for the tour, noticed her obvious confusion. "Don't worry," he whispered, leaning in. "It took me forever to figure this stuff out too. I still can't make a normal cup of coffee on that thing." He pointed to a device that looked to be more buttons than machine. "I keep making something Tony calls a 'frappe'." His exaggerated look of frustration earned a chuckle from Althea. He smiled, happy she was starting to feel at ease. "It is delicious, though."

Below the dining floor, Tony explained, were the sleeping quarters of everyone on the team. "Except for me, of course. I'm up top in the penthouse. They might call it 'Avengers Tower' but I still pay the bills. That comes with certain perks."

Tony had just shown Althea to what was to be her bedroom when they were interrupted by a voice emanating from the watch on Tony's wrist. "Sir, Miss Romanoff has returned. She is waiting for you in the debriefing room." Althea was hardly surprised to learn Tony had a stereotypical British butler. What kind of eccentric billionaire would he be without one? 

"Ah. Looks like the rest of the tour is going to have to wait until later. We'll let you settle in while we get everyone caught up to speed. Feel free to explore if you want, though I imagine you're probably tuckered out after today. If you need anything just ask J.A.R.V.I.S."

"Jarvis?" Thea looked around. She hadn't seen anyone other than Tony and Steve during the entirety of their tour.

"How can I help you, ma'am," came the same British voice as before. Althea started and looked around, searching desperately for its source.

"J.A.R.V.I.S. is an artificial intelligence program, a computer if you must, of my own invention. He runs just about everything around here," Stark explained. "J.A.R.V.I.S., meet Thea. She's going to be staying with us for a while. Let's start with level 3 clearance for now and go from there."

"Very well, sir."

"We'll come get you later. You should meet the rest of the team once you've gotten some rest." Steve gave her a last parting smile before he and Tony turned, leaving her alone in her new quarters.

Althea examined the room. It was simple but incredibly spacious, outfitted with a king size bed covered with a plush blue bedspread, and a pair of long, low dressers. Curious, she opened one of the drawers, but found it empty. For a moment she debated asking Tony's A.I. butler for a change of clothes, but decided against it. Even if it was capable of filling the request, a new wardrobe would probably be too bold for her first day. The room only had one window, albeit a large one, located just behind the bed. Through it, Althea had commanding view of the city, no less impressive in the waning light of the nearly set sun. Again, she found herself captivated by the sight, unable to tear her attention away for several minutes.

When at last she turned away, she noticed a second door stood on the far side of the room. She opened it cautiously, revealing a pristine bathroom. As she stepped inside, her movement in the large wall-mounted mirror caught her eye and she stopped to investigate her reflection.

She couldn't remember the last time she had properly seen herself, and she was unimpressed at the sight. If she didn't know better, Althea would say she looked sickly. She fingered a lock of her lackluster hair, rubbing the dry strands between her fingers. The understated luxury of her surroundings only highlighted her pathetic appearance. Suddenly, she remembered Steve had mentioned meeting 'the rest', and she grew even more self-conscious.

She decided a shower could do nothing but improve her sad condition, and was pleased to find towels conveniently laid out nearby. Even better, she noticed, she was able to lock the bathroom from the inside. Althea couldn't recall the last time she had locked someone out, rather than been locked in. The small taste of power helped her relax. She removed her clothes, hoping J.A.R.V.I.S. wasn't somehow watching, and stepped into the shower.

She emerged from the bathroom clean and redressed, toweling off her damp hair. The shower had been well stocked, and she held out hope that the conditioner she had found would make some improvement on her unhealthy locks. At the very least she smelt a good deal better. A small platter of food had been placed atop a box on the dresser in her absence, and Althea became aware of just how hungry she was. She immediately set about devouring the simple meal: a turkey sandwich and a packet of crisps. It wasn't until she had polished off the last remaining crumb that she paid the box any mind. Opening it, she found a brand new pair of tennis shoes. The gift brought a smile to Althea's face. They had noticed her shoddy footwear and found her a suitable replacement without her needing to ask. She mentally added a check in the "good guys" column. She added another when she slipped the shoes on, finding them a near-perfect fit.

Althea found she was too nervous to take Tony up on his offer to explore on her own. Truthfully, he had been right: she was exhausted. She carefully laid herself down in the middle of the expansive bed, studying the ceiling above as she ran through the events of the day. Her nerves were far less frayed than they had been just a few hours earlier. The chaos surrounding her meeting the Avengers and her escape from the organization they called Hydra already felt so far away. She silently chastised herself. She didn't know these people. It was too soon to get comfortable and let her guard down. A hot shower and some shoes shouldn't be enough to win her trust; she knew better. Despite her renewed resolve to remain wary, Althea soon drifted into the deep dreamless sleep brought on by physical and mental exhaustion, still wearing her new shoes. 

An insistent knocking woke Althea. She shot up and looked around blankly at the now dark room. Her mind raced as she groggily tried to place herself and remember how she had ended up asleep atop the covers of the strange bed. The rapping persisted as the circumstances surrounding her new quarters returned to her, and she leapt out of bed to answer the door.

Althea was still blinking the sleep from her eyes when she opened the door, revealing a rather annoyed looking Tony Stark. "Jesus kid, I was beginning to think you were dead or something. Come one," he waved for her to follow. "The gang's all assembled. They're just dying to meet you." He led her through the halls and to the elevator. Althea's nerves caught up with her as they rode up towards the lounge and she wrung her hands anxiously. 

"Don't worry," Tony attempted to console her, noticing her distress. Despite the costumes and nicknames we're all nice enough, pretty normal even. Well, most of us anyway." Before she had a chance to ask for clarification, the doors slid open, revealing five persons scattered about the room. 

"Cap you already know," Tony gestured to Steve, now casually dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans. Maskless and out of costume he looked surprisingly... normal. "As well as Natasha, though I don't think you guys had a chance to properly introduce yourselves." Natasha nodded towards Althea in greeting, even gracing her with a small smile though it didn't seem to reach her eyes. Despite the relaxed setting she still appeared to be all business.

"Let's move on to the new faces." Tony clapped his hands and spun to face the rest of the assembled group. "Bruce here, well he's probably the second smartest person on the team, next to myself of course." A timid looking man with graying hair gave her a small wave. "Don't be fooled though. He may look like a mild-mannered scientist, but he's got one hell of an anger issue. Best not to push it, unless you want to butt heads with the not-so-jolly green giant." Althea was suitably confused, and Bruce's bashful reaction did nothing to clarify Tony's meaning.

"I'm not, that's not really the whole story. It's.. it's complicated," stammered Bruce. Althea looked between the two men for an explaination.

"Oh 'complicated' doesn't even begin to describe you, does it Brucey."

"Alright stop it, Tony," Steve cut in. "You'll scare her."

"Sorry," he answered, dripping with sarcasm. Then, seeing Althea's anxious face, more seriously, "Sorry. Bruce is a stand up guy, really. Nothing to be scared of. Honestly." Althea gave Bruce a dubious side-long glance but nodded. Despite Tony's insinuations, she couldn't bring herself to be scared of the sheepish looking man.

"I would like to introduce myself to the new girl." Althea spun to face the loud, commanding voice. She found herself face to face, or rather face to chest, with an enormous, brawny man. He was standing so close that she had to crane her next just to see his face. Bright blue eyes sparkled above a broad, sincere smile, framed by a head of sandy blond locks. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Thea. I am Thor, son of Odin, Prince of Asgard and God of Thunder." He offered her a giant hand, which she took hesitantly. His grip was incredibly strong, painfully grinding the bones of her fingers together. Oblivious to her discomfort, he gave her hand a vigorous shake, the force nearly lifting her off her feet. 

"God?", she repeated incredulously as he released her. She chose to ignore her sore digits, unconcerned with the obvious damage his zealous greeting had caused. 

"Yes, the God of Thunder." He seemed unfazed by her skepticism. "I channel lightening through my hammer, Mjolnir. It was crafted for me by dwarves in the furnaces of Nidavellir. It is very impressive, it has no equal." His words were boastful, but his tone sounded matter-of-fact, as though he were merely conveying mundane facts. Althea slowly turned to Steve, whom she felt to be the most reasonable of the group, for some sort of explanation, but he merely shrugged and nodded.

She turned back to Thor, who was still beaming at her. Althea found herself smiling back, albeit tentatively, at his unbridled affability. "Nice to meet you too, Thor...uh, your majesty?" She added nervously. She had no idea what was proper etiquette when speaking with royalty, let alone a superhuman prince. 

"No, no no no, don't do that," cut in Tony. "'Thor is fine. He only gets titles on his own planet. Besides, 'majesty' is for a king, you call a prince 'highness'."

" _His planet_?"Althea wheeled on Thor, her eyes wide a saucers. "As in 'not Earth'?"

"This mortal appears denser than the average Midgardian," came a condescending voice from behind Thor. "Why is she here again? Is she some sort of pet?"

Althea noticed the tall, lanky figure for the first time. He stood a little apart from the rest, leaning casually against the kitchenette counter and looking entirely disinterested by the entire situation. He wore street clothes, but they were a far cry from the casual outfits donned by the rest of the assembled Avengers. Instead he wore a fine, expensive looking suit, perfectly tailored to his lithe frame. Every piece of the ensemble was jet black, barely distinguishable from one another. It matched his raven hair and highlighted the paleness of his alabaster skin. Looking at him, Althea was reminded of the marble statues of antiquity. 

"Do not mind Loki." Thor strode leisurely over to the man. "It is in my brother's nature to jest." He made to land a good-natured pat on Loki's shoulder, but his hand met no resistance, instead passing through the illusion in a ripple of green light. Thor was caught off balance, and gracelessly stumbled forward a few steps.

The rest of the party momentarily joined in Althea's confusion, though none of them seemed to share her surprise. They all looked around the room. Movement from a dark corner drew their attention, and Althea saw the same figure, Loki, rise from the window seat farthest away from where the rest of the group was seated. Without acknowledging them, he made his way to the door. 

"In the future, I ask that you only summon me for important matters... or at least interesting ones," he called out behind him, without turning around.

The entire interaction left Althea stunned, and she closed her gaping mouth, unaware it had fallen open.

"Like I said, _most_ of us are nice," Tony grimaced.

"Forgive him," Thor pleaded on his brother's behalf. "Loki may not be the most courteous, but he has a good heart. It will reveal itself in time."

"Yeah, so you keep saying," came Tony's retort.

Althea turned her attention back to the rest, "Where's Clint...uh, Hawkeye?", Althea wondered aloud. She had been hoping to learn more about the quiet, sullen archer. 

"Oh Clint doesn't like to hang around with us much. He's not really the sociable type." Tony didn't seem too bothered by the absence. 

"He has his own place," corrected Natasha, and left it at that. 

"So, that's introductions out of the way. These are the Avengers: Earth's mightiest heroes, and one sulky jerk. Why don't you tell the class a little about yourself." Tony offered her the floor.

"I, uh, well I don't really know what to say," Althea shifted uncomfortably under their joint scrutiny.

"You could start with what you were doing in a top secret Hydra hideout in the Alleghenies," prompted Natasha.

"I don't even know who or what Hydra is."

"They're an organization bent on world domination, evil as they come by all accounts," Steve explained. "They've got long arms and fingers in just about criminal pie out there. Weapons, covert governments, terrorism, the works. We've been after them for years. They keep us pretty busy, living up to their name. Every time we find one base of operation another two pop up. The raid this morning was just the most recent battle in a long fight."

"We received intel they were working on a special project in the mountains. Intel that led us to you." Natasha pinned Althea with a biting look. "The 'asset'."

Althea stared at her feel, overwhelmed by this new information. She had never entertained the idea that she had suffered in the name of some philanthropic cause, but neither had she imagined anything so heinous or with such a large scope.

"I didn't know what they were doing, or even what they wanted with me. I didn't have a choice."

"How long were you there?" Bruce's voice was soft and sincere.

"I don't know exactly," she conceded. "What year is it?"

"2015," Steve replied.

"2015?", Althea reeled. After a bit of mental math, she had her answer. "Eleven, maybe twelve years."

"Twelve... _twelve years_? You're telling me you've been down in the bunker since you were a kid? Since Martha Stewart went to prison? Since before Facebook?"

"What's Facebook?", Thor, Steve and Althea all voiced the question in unison.

Tony looked back and forth between the three of them. "Unbelievable. How is it nearly half of the people living in this tower are completely removed from modern, human culture. Honestly, if you only knew the jokes I've wasted on you lot."

"If they kept you around for so long, they must have had a reason," Bruce gently pressed.

Althea only ground her teeth in response. She wanted to tell them, to trust them. She wanted nothing more to unburden herself and count these people as allies, or even eventually friends, but she knew that was only the best case scenario. The countless other possible outcomes kept her mouth shut. True, they seemed trustworthy, if not odd, but she had been here all of a day. It was too soon to know for certain, and she had to be certain.

With a deep breath, she gathered the courage to speak up. "I don't know what they were trying to do. Honestly, I don't. I know you guys want to know why I was there, what it is about me that made them so interested. And I want to tell you, but I... I need time. I just spent nearly half my life held prisoner by what you tell me is an evil, global organization bent on controlling the world. I didn't even know their name until today. I promise I'm not going to hurt anyone. I don't even think I _could_ hurt someone if I tried, let alone any of you. From what I've seen you could take me out without breaking a sweat. But I didn't leave one prison just to hand myself over to another, all because of something I had no say in." She held her breath, hoping they could hear the truth of her words. 

"Pretty sure that's the most you've spoken since we picked you up," muttered Tony, breaking the tension that had permeated the room.

"We can give you time," said Steve. He looked around at each of his companions, making sure they understood that the decision had been made. "We'll have to keep an eye on you for now, I hope you understand, keep you confined to the tower. But you're not our prisoner, and when you're ready to tell us, we'll be here."

Althea couldn't help the appreciative smile that crept across her face at his understanding. She added another check to the ever growing 'good guys' tally in her mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki finally makes an appearance, if only for a moment. I hadn't meant for this chapter to be so long, but you know what they say about rolls and once you get on them.   
> I know I said it was going to be a minute until I was able to post the next chapter, but I guess I lied. I finally got a new laptop and between the excitement of typing on an actual keyboard and the urge to get as much done before I return to work, this chapter just kind of flew out of me.   
> Also, obligatory "thank you" to the folks already reading. I hope you continue to enjoy the story as it picks up steam. As always, critiques and criticism are welcome.


	4. Settling In

As far as transitions go, Althea's shift into living alongside the Avengers in Stark Tower was relatively smooth. Steve had upheld his promise to allow her time, and neither he nor the rest of the team pestered her about the circumstances surrounding her years as a captive of Hydra. Instead, they went about their days and routines as though she were simply a new, if not welcome, addition to their lives. Soon she began to feel almost at home amongst the group of particular individuals.

Steve made it a point to check in on her at least once a day, seeking her out if they hadn't crossed paths. Though no one had expressly confirmed her suspicions, she was now confident he was considered their leader. It wasn't difficult to understand why. He was a serious man by nature, focused and steadfast, but tempered with kindness and patience. He led by example, not by demand, and it was easy to see how he had earned the respect of the rest of the team.

One day, after another of Tony's referential jokes had gone over both their heads, Steve told her about how he had come to join the Avengers. He told her about the serum that had turned him into a super-soldier and created "Captain America", how he had first fought Hydra in the midst of World War II, and how he had awoken seventy years later to a new world with many of the same problems. His eyes were far away as he recounted his time serving with the military, and Althea felt overwhelming sympathy for this man out of time. His unwavering positivity and optimism after all that he had been through sparked in Althea a hope that she would be able to find a similar peace for herself. 

She saw Tony much less often. At first, she had assumed he was busy running his namesake business, but she quickly learned that a majority of that work was done by his partner, Pepper. Instead, Tony busied himself with personal and experimental projects in his personal lab. Althea observed their relationship from a distance, admiring the young woman's ability to reign in the flighty, scattered genius. Their conversations were a dizzying display of witty jabs mixed with genuine affections. Althea couldn't imagine two people more perfectly suited for one another. 

Despite being preoccupied with his work and personal life, Tony still made sure she was afforded every comfort during her time in his care. She didn't have to ask for new clothes; they simply appeared in her room after her first night in the tower, each piece simple but well made and perfectly tailored. A few days later a stylist had arrived unannounced to tend to Althea's hair, the end result being an effortless bob that ended just above her shoulders and emphasized her natural waves. She sought Tony out that evening to convey her gratitude, eventually finding him sipping brandy at the lounge bar. He waved off her thanks, claiming it was nothing and offered her a drink. She had never tasted alcohol, and her reaction to her first taste of the fiery liquid made Tony chuckle.

Bruce was equally hard to pin down, apparently spending just as much time in the lab as Stark. He was a nervous, quiet person and his unease made Althea feel a little less alone in her own. When she finally had the opportunity to ask him about what Tony had referred to as his "anger problem", he had been hesitant to elaborate. Eventually told her about his alter ego, the being known as "Hulk". She didn't know what to make of his revelation, or how to parse the idea that the timid genius before her could transform into a destructive, simple-minded beast. She tried not to dwell on the image, instead choosing to focus on the kind and compassionate man who spent his free time working diligently to help others. 

Natasha and Clint spent most of their time training, usually in each other's company. They were the only two in the group without a superpower, if you counted Tony's immense wealth as a superpower, which Althea did. She wondered if their relative normalcy compared to the rest was behind their apparent closeness, or if they had a shared history she had yet to learn. Unlike Bruce, Althea didn't feel comfortable pressing either of them for details. While neither of them was unkind, they were both rather standoffish, obviously wary in her presence. She noticed how their conversations tailed off whenever she entered the room. She had yet to earn their trust, that much was clear. Clint was often gone, and in his absence, Natasha remained hard at work. If she had hobbies or interests outside crime-fighting and training, Althea never saw any evidence.

Thor was by far the friendliest among them. His easy smile and welcoming demeanor was an endearing contrast to his intimidating physique. Always eager to show off his awesome power, he asked her repeatedly to spectate his training sessions. Althea found she regretted finally giving in as she sat on the sidelines, watching him and Tony do their very best to beat the living shit out of one another. The blatant display of violence made her anxiety skyrocket, and she had spent the entire match on the edge of her seat, muscles tight and knuckles white with the stress of it all. They emerged from the skirmish spent, but smiling; Althea left exhausted and nervous. She had not returned to the training floor since. 

She often ate alongside Thor, who seemed to enjoy eating just as much as he enjoyed fighting. Althea wondered if it was typical for beings from Asgard to eat four or five as much as a normal person or if Thor's appetite was considered immense on his world as well. He told her all about his home over their meals: of his people, the golden palace he called home, and the many battles he had fought alongside his friends. Often his tales would leave her in stitches. She had no idea what a Bilgesnipe was or why Thor and his warriors had been tasked with killing it, but the image of it cornering him with his pants down, literally, had made her laugh until tears ran down her cheeks. 

His brother was another matter altogether. Althea had never met two people so diametrically opposed in appearance or demeanor. Whenever she encountered Loki he always excused himself immediately. Well, "excused" was putting it gently. Rather, he would quit the room without a word. Their interactions were made no less awkward by the fact that they seemed to run into each other all the time. 

Althea spent most of her day systematically pouring through the vast library Tony had amassed in the lounge. She settled herself in one of the large window seats, basking in the warm sunlight and oscillating her attention between the written word and the expansive city skyline. After years without a single window, now she found herself unable to tear herself away from them. 

It seemed Loki was similarly drawn to the same spot, turning around in exasperation when he found she had gotten there first, or getting up in a huff if he beat her and she tried to join him. At first, she had been offended. Soon though, it turned into a game of sorts. She always greeted him warmly, proferring a cheerful smile or casual remark about the weather. If he ever regarded her in turn, it was limited to an annoyed, haughty glance in her direction as he made his exit. Althea wasn't sure what her goal was with these interactions, but she knew she hadn't done anything to earn his attitude and therefore refused to simply lie down and take it. 

He was an outsider, that much was clear. She wasn't the only one he avoided. Other than a few, tense interactions with his brother, she had never seen him so much as greet anyone, let alone converse with any of them. And as aloof as he acted, she could see the animosity was not one-sided. The others never attempted to connect with him either, not the way they did with her. When she questioned Thor about Loki, his answer was earnest but ambiguous. 

"Loki has made his fair share of mistakes; mistakes that are not easily forgiven or forgotten. He has also been through his fair share of sorrow and loss... more than his fair share. Under it all, my brother has a good heart. I have seen it, and I believe the others will see it also, in time. Please do not judge him too quickly or harshly." 

She trusted Thor. Besides a few embellished war stories, he seemed entirely incapable of lying. But if she was going to open up to these people, she had to trust all of them. That included Loki. Thor's endorsement was not enough. Until she knew more about him, she would keep her secrets to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: personal death and loss
> 
> A few days ago I lost a close friend unexpectedly, and it's been hard. She was a talented writer and poet, and outspoken voice for social justice and trans rights, and the funniest person in the world to boot. 
> 
> Reach out to your friends. Tell them how much they mean to you. Tell them how much you love them. Life is short, even for the best of us. Fight to spread as much positivity in the world as you can, because every day circumstances conspire to take more and more joy away from us.
> 
> I hope my story spreads a little joy. So far writing it has been a pleasure and, this week, a welcome distraction. I'll see you next chapter.


	5. Shared Trauma

It was two weeks before the Avengers were called back out into the field. Althea had been fixing herself a snack when J.A.R.V.I.S. got her attention.

"Miss Thea, Mr. Stark requests your presence in conference room B."

She didn't utilize the A.I. butler often, but she had grown used to the disembodied voice. She no longer found it weird to carry on a conversation with the thin air. "Should I go right now, or can I finish my sandwich?"

"Mr. Stark conveyed urgency, though I'm sure you can take your food with you if you prefer." 

In the end, Althea chose to leave her half-finished snack behind, taking one last hurried bite.

When she exited the elevator into the lounge, she was surprised to find the rest of the Avengers congregated in the room, already deep in conversation. Even Loki was there, half-hidden in the shadows, looking bored as per usual. 

"..so straight forward, then: go in, get the weapons, get out?", Clint asked.

"And as always, find out anything we can about their next moves," Steve nodded.

"Fury says this place is locked up pretty tight. That means we're going to need your friend along for the ride, Bruce." Tony looked pointedly at the scientist, who merely sighed in acquiescence. 

"Suit up and meet back here. Wheels up in fifteen." Steve dismissed them before heading out to change into his own crime-fighting costume. He nodded to Althea as he passed.

Natasha, Clint, and Bruce followed him out, the later muttering something about 'brand new pants' under his breath. Tony, Thor, and Loki remained behind. Althea looked at Tony in confusion.

"What's going on? What did I miss?"

"We got a mission, kid. The guys upstairs have new information about a stronghold out in Eastern Europe. Looks like your friends Hydra."

"They're not my friends," she countered under her breath. 

"Yeah, well, hopefully, they don't have any more sheepish "assets" hidden in this one. I'm running out of spare rooms."

"Am I coming with you?" She tried to imagine riding into battle alongside the likes of Iron Man, Captain America, and the others. The idea petrified her.

"You? Or no, you're not going anywhere," Tony replied, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of her idea. "I just wanted to let you know we were popping out for a bit. Didn't want you to worry."

"Fret not. We will return shortly, no doubt victorious," Thor exclaimed in a booming voice, swinging his hammer for emphasis, clearly excited for the opportunity to do some fighting outside of the training room. 

"Actually, Raiden, you're sitting this one out." Thor looked at Tony in disbelief. "Cap doesn't want her left alone with this one." Tony jabbed a thumb in Loki's direction, eliciting a scoff from the dark prince. "Not until we know she can handle herself."

For a moment it looked like Thor would argue, but after an exasperated look at Tony, he dropped his hammer to his side dejectedly. 

A few minutes later the team reassembled and made their way out to the helipad. Althea watched with wonderment as they boarded the Quinjet. After a fortnight playing roommate to the team of superheroes, she had almost forgotten what an intimidating force they were. From the window she watched the jet as it flew off into the distance, following it until it disappeared over the horizon.

Thor turned to Loki. "Well brother, what say we take advantage of the empty training grounds?"

"You know I still can't believe you two are related," Thea said, looking away from the window to take her remaining companions. Again she was struck by the differences between the two men. 

"Adopted," they muttered in unison. The corners of Loki's mouth turned up slightly in a rueful smirk, but Thor looked unphased by their accidental harmony. 

"Fine," Loki sighed, turning to leave the lounge, "there isn't anything better to do anyway." He shot Thea a pointed look before disappearing down the hall. Thor ignored the taunt entirely.

"Would you care to join us, Lady Thea?" Thor had apparently taken to Tony's nickname for her, though he still insisted on calling her "lady". 

"I'd rather stay here if it's all the same," she responded. She still hadn't gotten over her last time watching Thor spar. The wide window seat and full bookshelves of the lounge seemed far more appealing than watching the two brothers try their hardest to injure one another.

"Very well. We shall be back soon," he smiled. He leaned in to whisper gruffly, "I do not expect it will take long to best my brother. Loki is a capable fighter, but I believe I have learned to see through his tricks." With a good-humored wink, he followed Loki down the hall.

Althea scanned the spines of the largest bookcase, eventually settling on a worn copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. She was soon thoroughly absorbed in the tragic tale of Edmund Dantès, oblivious to the fading light as the day wore on. When it had grown too dim to read, she set the book down and turned her attention out the window, watching as dusk approached the glittering skyline as she pondered the similarities between Dumas's tragic hero and her own life. 

The sun had all but set when Loki returned to the lounge, collapsing onto one of the couches in the sunken living area. He had yet to voluntarily occupy the same room as Althea, and she reasoned he hadn't noticed her sitting in the now darkened corner of the room. She took advantage of the chance to observe him with his guard down, careful not to move suddenly lest she scare him off.

He sat sprawled across the seat, long limbs thrown wide in every direction. His eyes were closed and his head tilted back, revealing the pale length of his neck. Sweat gleamed on his forehead and his chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath. His bout with Thor had clearly left him exhausted. Wearily he wiped the perspiration from his face with the sleeve of his green tunic, a satisfied smile playing across his thin lips. The grin disappeared the moment he opened his eyes and noticed Althea studying him.

To her surprise, he didn't immediately get up to leave, instead matching her watchful gaze with one of aggravation. 

"How long have you been there, mortal?" He sounded as worn out as he looked, barely managing to inject his usual venom into the question. 

"Long enough," Althea replied. She felt emboldened, having caught him in such an expended state. She rose from her seat, taking a few steps in his direction. "Looks like Thor really kicked your ass."

"Looks can be deceiving. Indeed, if you went down to the training grounds now, it would look as though my idiot brother and I were still fighting." Althea remembered the clone Loki had conjured the first time they met. Apparently, he used his ability for avoidance in battle as well as in social situations. She wondered if this one of the tricks Thor believed he had caught on to. "I assure you I had the match well in hand," he added, smiling confidently.

"If that's so, why did you run away?", she asked, sitting down beside him, unable to help but point out the flawed logic in his explanation.

He shot her a withering look. "Because," he sighed, "I prefer to leave once something becomes boring or tedious. Take, for example, this exchange." He moved to stand, bracing his weight on his arms as he rose. As he rose he sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, obviously in pain.

Althea stood with him, concerned. "You're hurt." She looked him over for injury, eventually discovering a sizeable cut on his left arm that had escaped her notice. In the dim room, the flowing blood blended in the deep emerald of his shirt.

"It's nothing," Loki insisted. He made to shift the injury away from her but was too slow. 

Without thinking, Althea had reached out to touch his wounded arm. As soon as her fingertips made contact with his torn skin, her hand began to glow; a steady white light emanating from her palm. She withdrew the offending hand quickly, but it was too late. Loki watched in awe as the skin of his arm stitched itself together, the laceration disappearing before his very eyes. Soon the damage had disappeared completely, the tear in his sleeve and the stain of his blood the only indications that the injury had occurred at all.

"What did you do?" he breathed. He looked to Althea for an explanation, but she had turned away from him. Forcefully, he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, ready to demand an answer, and froze. She stood grasping her arm, a pained look on her face as she avoided his gaze. Between her fingers, fresh blood flowed freely. Cautiously, curiously, he reached for her hand. Althea choked back a small sob as he peeled her fingers away. There, cutting deep into her flesh, was a fresh gash, a perfect mirror to the one that had just disappeared from his own arm. In a matter of seconds, it too began to heal. The flow of blood slowed as the wound closed, eventually vanishing and leaving smooth, unbroken skin behind. 

Loki looked back and forth between his own arm and Althea's, trying to work through what he had just witnessed. "What are you?" he questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Loki, I..."

Althea was interrupted by Thor, who strode into the room breathing heavily.

"You fooled me again, brother. Though you must admit I had you on the ropes for a great deal of our match. How long have you..." Thor trailed off as he took in the sight before him. His eyes darted between Loki and Althea, pausing on the troubling amount of blood that covered both of their limbs. "What in the nine realms is going on here?"

Loki met Althea's gaze, his blue-green eyes glittering, before answering his brother's concern. "Something very interesting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we get a one-on-one scene with Loki... and Althea's secret is revealed! Sometimes you have certain beats completely fleshed out before the story gets to them and this was definitely one of them. The next chapter, which I'm also posting today, is another. Right now I'm writing like an absolute fiend. I haven't been able to do much else. 
> 
> I'm obviously a fan of the slow-burn, so if you've made it this far and through all my exposition, CONGRATS. Things should start picking up fairly quickly now that Althea has started to feel at home. As always let me know what you think! 
> 
> The next chapter is going to be pretty dark, just a fair warning.


	6. Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Graphic violence, mention of suicide

"For the first fifteen years of my life, everything was normal. I lived with my mom and dad in a little town in West Virginia. I remember we were happy. Everything seemed normal. I had no idea what I was, that I was... different."

Althea sat at the large table in the lounge of Avengers Tower, surrounded by the group of heroes. After accidentally revealing her ability to Loki and, by extension Thor, it appeared her secret was well and truly out of the bag. Upon the rest of the team's return, Thor had gathered them to hear her story. She had agreed, albeit reluctantly, to finally open up to her new companions. Whether she was ready or not, the time had come for Althea to lay her past bare.

"That summer I'd spent a couple of weeks at a camp up in the mountains. My parents were driving me home when something happened and the car swerved off the road. One second I was rambling about kayaking and showing off stupid little crafts and then we were just... falling." She paused and closed eyes, breathing through the way her stomach still dropped at the memory of plummeting off the road.

"They both died on impact. I survived, but just barely. The injuries were extensive, apparently; my back was broken in three places. I wasn't expected to pull through. Even if I did survive, full paralysis was almost guaranteed." Looking up, she saw the group around the table searching her with their eyes, looking for any sign of the injuries she described.

"At least, that's what the doctors told me the next day when they found me wandering the halls, looking for my parents." Their eyes were all wide now. She looked down to avoid the incredulous stares.

"They ran every test they had, but there was no sign I had just fallen to my near-death the previous day. No broken bones, no cuts or scrapes, not even a bruise. I remember the word 'miracle' being thrown around a lot. It was only a few days until the agents came for me."

"Hydra," Steve offered, his voice dripping with hatred.

"I didn't know who they were. I still don't really understand. I didn't have any other family, so I guess no one ever came looking for me. Or maybe someone did, and they were told I'd succumbed to my injuries. Who knows," she gave a half-hearted shrug.

"At first the tests were benign. X-rays, CAT scans, that sort of thing. They ran my blood, tested my reflexes, gathered DNA... basically the most thorough physical in the history of man." Steve Rogers nodded, looking sympathetic. Of all of them, he knew the most about having his body poked and prodded in the name of science.

"But they didn't get any answers, and the tests became more..." she searched for the right word. Cruel? Inhumane? "Experimental," she landed on something a little less dramatic, though she couldn't stop the scowl that crawled over her lips. She went back to studying her hands.

"For years they did just about everything you could think of to me. They cut me, burned me, broke bones," she let out a low, dark chuckle. "They even put me in a freezer until all my fingers and toes were frostbitten." Someone had the decency to gasp, but she didn't bother to look up to see who it had been. "Every time my body would just heal itself. No matter what they did, it just knit itself back together without so much as a scar."

"Every day a new experiment, every day a new injury. It didn't matter how much I cried or screamed or begged them to stop, and I did cry and scream and beg." She felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes and she clenched her fists, her knuckles white as her fingernails dug into the flesh of her palms. "Because I felt everything."

"That's the catch. There's always a catch," she spat. "No matter what happens, my body heals and eventually it's like nothing ever happened, but I still feel pain. Even the healing hurts until it's done. It never got easier. I didn't get used to it. Over time I stopped begging, cried less... because it didn't matter. They weren't going to let up. Not until they got the answers they were looking for."

"They tortured you," Natasha breathed. Thea met her gaze, expecting pity, but was met with something closer to sympathy. Understanding.

"They couldn't figure out what was happening though, and it became routine in a way... until one day I snapped." Nat's sympathy would disappear once she heard the next part of the story, Althea was sure. She studied the wood grain of the table, eyebrows knitting together, and pushed on. 

"It was just another test, burning this time. Burns are my least favorite. They... linger longer, I guess you'd say. Anyway, he had this red hot piece of metal and he was pressing it into my arm," she continued, absentmindedly brushing her fingers against the soft skin of her inner forearm where the brand had seared her flesh. "It was like he planned on holding it there forever, pressing down, hard until it felt like it would reach bone. I could feel myself boiling away under it, layer by layer until I just couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed a scalpel and slashed at him. I didn't even look to see what part of him I'd hit. I just wanted him to stop, to get away from me."

If Althea had entertained the idea that anyone had not been fully engaged in her story up until this point, she abandoned it now. All eyes were solidly locked on her. They all waited with bated breath, save for Loki, who smirked, looked somewhat entertained at the story's turn.

"He stopped pressing and I was so relieved... then I realized what I'd done. Suddenly there was blood. So much blood. My blind swing had caught his neck. I panicked. I didn't want him to die. I just wanted a break from the constant pain. I put my hand against the cut in a lame attempt to help...and it stopped. There was only a brief second after I pulled my hand away and saw his neck without any trace of where I had sliced him before I felt the blood running down my own neck." She raised her hand and pressed it against the spot. Nothing had prepared her for that first transfer. She had seen every other injury coming, had been able to prepare herself, but this had materialized out of nowhere.

"I must have passed out from the blood loss, but when I woke up I felt fine, just like any other time I had healed myself. No cut, no scar, nothing but a blood-stained shirt. That's when they started bringing other people into the tests."

"First it was "minor stuff" like broken bones, bullet wounds, cuts and the like. It was always the same: first, their body would heal, then my body would mirror the injury. There's still pain when it transfers over to my body. Maybe even more, because it all hits at once. It took longer for my body to heal injuries from others than anything done directly to me, but it healed all the same. That went on for about a year before they brought in the first cancer patient."

"Wait, wait, wait," broke in Tony. "You're telling me you can cure cancer?" His incredulity underlined by raised eyebrows.

Banner spoke up. "That means you can manipulate DNA, affect cell mutation..." he trailed off slowly, gazing thoughtfully at his own hands.

"I don't think so," Althea interrupted his musing. "I don't think it works that way. It can heal the damage from radiation therapy, remove tumors and repair damaged organs, things like that, but as far as I know, it doesn't affect a person's DNA."

"The diseases and illnesses... they were worse than anything that I'd gone through up to that point; years of pain condensed into hours. But I looked forward to them as well."

It was Thor's turn to look incredulous. "You gained enjoyment from the most intense of your suffering?"

"No, not at all," Althea let out a rueful laugh at his interpretation. "But I did enjoy the relief on their faces after their pain was taken away." She allowed herself a small, sad smile. "I told myself it was all worth it, everything I had been through, everything I was still going through if I got to give these people a second chance."

"I became the model test subject. I was complacent, subservient even. After everything, I at least felt like I had a purpose; like I was doing some good. The doctors and even the guards started giving me small freedoms. They were a little more lax around me. They probably thought they'd finally broken me. I guess in a way they had. I was resigned to live out the rest of my days in that facility, healing others, and maybe even helping them discover how to heal even more people in the future."

"Then, one day, a doctor checking up on me went into the hall to answer a call and left his clipboard behind in the room with me. It wasn't uncommon for them to leave stuff around anymore, and I usually skimmed over anything I could get my hands on. They rarely told me anything about the experiments or tests directly, so I had to take whatever information I could get my hands on. This time it was different, though. It wasn't the usual lab write up or the umpteenth physical exam breakdown. It was an autopsy report."

Althea swallowed thickly. Anger bubbling and threatening to overflow as she recalled the horror she felt upon the discovery. "Deanne Duncan. According to her, everyone called her DeeDee. I had healed her just two days before. Stage four leukemia. I remember how she cried with relief as soon as her pain left, transferred to me. She had been in so much pain, I felt it. She thanked me, told me she was going to be able to watch her little boy grow up. When I left she had been fine, happy, and smiling. According to her autopsy, she had been perfectly healthy... save for the bullet in her head." Althea allowed the tears she had been holding back flow now, just as she had then.

"They killed her. They killed all of them. They brought these people in with the promise of a fresh start, a cure for the incurable." Her voice was growing steadily louder as her rage and tears spilled out. "They made me heal them, just to see if I could, and then they murdered them all to study their bodies and keep their secrets." Violent sobs racked her body, clenched fists shaking in her lap. No one spoke, allowing her to cry out her ire and sorrow.

After a long moment, Thor offered an awkward, heavy pat on her shoulder. Althea roughly wiped the back of her hand across her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing.

"I knew I couldn't escape that place. I had tried once, early on, but I didn't get very far. It was too heavily guarded. It would have taken a miracle, and I didn't expect one to find me. I didn't see a way out." She looked around at the very group of "miracles" who had broken her out. If she had known then that people such as them existed in the world, perhaps she wouldn't have lost hope.

"I tried to kill myself," she told them flatly. "I thought if I wasn't around, then they wouldn't have a reason to bring anyone else in for the experiments. Maybe those people would still die, but I wouldn't be complicit in it. But nothing worked. No matter what I did, my body would manage to heal itself and bring me back." She let out a joyless chuckle. "I don't even know if I can die. I'd completely given up when you guys busted in."

The room was silent as they took in the incredible story Althea had laid out for them. None of them seemed to think she was lying, but they didn't seem to fully believe her either. They all shared dubious, contemplative looks as they tried to discern the truth of the situation.

All, that is, save for Loki. He stared at her intently, as if she were a puzzle he was determined to solve."Show them," he told her, breaking the silence.

The rest of the group looked at him, surprised, before turning expectantly to Althea. She met Loki's gaze, unnerved but emboldened by its intensity, and gave him a slight nod. She looked around the table for something she could use to prove her ability, but it was bare save for the papers Bruce had used to jot down some points from her story. She doubted healing a paper cut would amaze anyone, let alone the group before her.

"Allow me." Loki flicked his pale hand towards her, producing a long dagger that appeared to materialize out of thin air.

"Hey now, little boy blue, what have I told you about playing with knives?" Tony shot him a disapproving look.

Loki ignored him, flipping the knife into the air and catching the blade deftly with his fingers. He offered the hilt to Thea.

She eyed Loki, surprised at the display. Until now she had only seen him produce illusory doubles of himself. Producing blades out of thin air certainly seemed useful. Why then did he never accompany the rest of the team on their missions? Was it simply his bad attitude that made the others leave him behind? She pushed aside the questions, for now, reached out and cautiously accepted the dagger.

It looked incredibly sharp. That was good, she reasoned, at least it wouldn't hurt as much as a duller blade might. Still, she sucked in a preparatory breath before slicing a deep cut across her palm.

The blood began to flow immediately, falling in thick, hot drops from her hand. She held it out so everyone had a good view. For a few seconds, nothing seemed to happen. Then the bleeding began to slow. The edges of the wound crept closer together until the two sides knitted together. Bruce leaned forward in his chair, entranced by the display. Althea wiped away the excess blood so they could the unbroken skin where the cut healed. There was a shiny pink line like a fresh scar, but it rapidly lost its sheen and color. Soon, any sign of injury was completely gone, the skin of her palm once again smooth and unblemished.

Bruce fell back in his chair, running a hand through his graying hair. "Incredible," he muttered to himself. "Rapid cell regeneration, or maybe biomechanical reconstruction..."

"Remind me to lay down towels next time," Tony quipped, looking at the pool of blood that had formed on the tabletop under Althea's hand.

Althea paled. "Next time?" Panic raced through her as her worst fears seemed to come true. Did they plan to experiment on her as well? Had she escaped one hell simply to walk into another?

Steve quickly clocked her change in demeanor. "He's just making a joke... a bad joke." He shot Tony a quick glare. "No one here is going to hurt you," he reassured her Natasha nodded in agreement beside him.

"He's right," Natasha said. "We don't hurt our own."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first thing I wrote when I decided to start this story. Everything started with Althea's backstory - I just had to figure out how it would reveal itself and how it would play into the larger narrative. I originally planned on spacing out the release of these last few chapters and using the time to get ahead, but less patient heads prevailed. 
> 
> P.S. Coming up with Tony's nicknames for the rest of the team is by far my favorite aspect of writing an Avengers story. I have an entire word document dedicated to his irreverent references. Maybe I'll post it separately once the story's finished.


	7. Getting a Read

Althea fielded as many questions as she could handle that evening before Steve Rogers mercifully suggested she get some rest. The hushed conversation that started behind her before she had even left the room did not escape her notice. She wrung her hands as she waited for the elevator to arrive, heedless of the drying blood that still coated her left hand. As far as reactions, she reasoned with herself, that had gone just about as well as could be hoped. Natasha, who until now had barely said three words to Althea, had referred to her as “one of them”. That was an encouraging sign, to say the least. 

It wasn’t until she had entered the elevator and turned around to push the number for her floor that she noticed Loki standing beside her. She jumped slightly as she caught sight of him in her peripheral vision, her hand flying to her chest. He turned his head to look at her, holding her startled gaze for a moment before he sighed and reached past her to hit the button for the dormitory floor. He smoothly returned to his statuesque posture, staring straight ahead, hands clasped behind his back. 

When Althea had composed herself, she addressed him. “I thought you’d be with the rest of them, trying to decide what to do with me,” she said.

“My opinion on this or any other matter is neither welcomed nor regarded,” he replied, doing his best to sound entirely disinterested. Even so, Althea could hear the frustration in his voice.

She thought on his answer a moment before pressing on. “And what is it?”, she asked. “You’re opinion on the matter… on me?”, she added.

The doors opened and Loki stepped out, briskly making his way down the hallway. Althea hurried to keep up with his long strides, realizing for the first time that the two of them probably slept in relatively close quarters.

“I don’t think you are telling the whole truth. Whether it is a conscious omission or otherwise I’m not certain,” he explained, shooting her a sidelong glance as he continued down the hall. “Either way, I intend to find out.”

“What do you mean?”

He stopped suddenly and faced her, his expression serious. “Mortals do not simply possess abilities. The few that don’t rely on cheap tools and tricks are made. Rogers was engineered in a lab. Banner is the side effect of an experimental accident. Only gods possess power from birth, and you are clearly no god. So the question remains,” he leaned in until his face was mere inches from Althea’s, his eyes dark and suspicious, “what are you? Another manipulation… or something else?”

Althea balked and averted her eyes. If only Loki knew how many times she had asked herself that exact question. Hydra hadn’t created her, she knew that much. If they had, they wouldn’t have sliced and diced her for over a decade looking for answers. If it had been genetic, then either her mom or dad would have survived the car crash. Every possibility eliminated left a dozen more questions in its wake. She had no answers, not for Loki, not for the Avengers, not even for herself. 

Loki hummed, drawing himself back to his full height, his eyes still locked on Althea. “Perhaps you really don’t know. No matter, that just makes things more interesting.” He turned and reached for the door behind him. 

Althea blinked and turned around to see her own door behind her. So Loki’s room had been directly across the hall this whole time. The idea of being in such close proximity to the god of mischief while she slept filled her with apprehension laced with another, stranger feeling she couldn’t name. She heard him open the door and spun back towards him, determined to end their conversation on better footing. 

“So does that mean you’re going to stop avoiding me? I mean, you know, if you’re going to figure me out or whatever you’ll probably have to be, well, around me now and then.” 

He paused in the threshold but didn’t turn around. “Does that scare you? The idea of spending time with me?”

“I’m not the one who runs away any time we’re in the same room,” she replied, trying to diffuse the situation with some humor. 

Loki’s head snapped to the side, revealing his profile to Althea. For a moment he looked as though he would chew her out, but instead, he cracked a small smile. “Not yet,” was all he said before he slipped into the dark room, the door clicking shut quietly behind him.

Althea stood alone in the hallway, still looking at Loki’s door as she pondered over their interaction. She remembered the way he had materialized a dagger out of thin air not an hour ago, the remarkable stealth he had demonstrated on many occasions, not to mention he was apparently capable of holding his own against his brother in combat. Loki did not flaunt his power, but he was no less intimidating for his discretion. If he wanted to hurt her, he was certainly more than capable of doing so. Althea knew she should be frightened, and a small part of her was, but Loki was not alone in his curiosity. She wanted to know more about the misanthropic loner, just as he wanted to get to the bottom of her. 

She turned and entered her own room, thoughts of her past as well as the unknown future before her keeping her awake long into the night. 

The rising sun roused Althea from a restless sleep, and soon she made her way upstairs to the kitchen. Unlike Steve, she had managed to figure out the complex coffee maker, and she set about preparing herself a cup. Warm mug in hand, she continued up to the lounge. In Althea’s mind, nothing she knew of beat the bird’s eye view of Manhattan as it stirred to life in the early hours. She often woke up early to enjoy the display over her cup of coffee from the window seats in the lounge, enjoying the quiet and comfortable quiet before the rest of the tower woke.

To her surprise, the room was occupied this morning. Looking around as she entered, she saw that nearly every member of the Avengers was present. Steve, Tony and Clint stood in a circle, engaged in what looked to be a heated discussion. Bruce stood a few paces off, thoroughly engrossed in his bagel. Beside him, Thor was eating as well, the counter beside him littered with silver Pop-Tart wrappers.

“Tell me you didn’t spend all night up here,” Althea sighed, speaking to no one in particular. 

Tony broke away from his conversation to address her. “Early meeting. Bureaucrats just love dragging people out of bed.”

“Now that we know more about your situation, it’s time to fill in SHIELD,” Steve clarified. “Nat’s gone ahead to brief Fury. They’re expecting us…” he glanced down at his watch, “soon. We should get moving.” He gestured to the rest, who gathered themselves and started out towards the helipad. 

“Are they going to take me away?”, she asked, her unease making her voice waver.

“We just letting them know about you, not turning you over,” Steve reassured her. “As far as we’re concerned, you’re one of us now and you’re not going anywhere.”

“We’ll be back late,” Tony said. He paused at the door before turning to Thor, who was grabbing one last packet of Pop-Tarts for the road. “Uh, maybe you should stay back. What do you say, Bob the Builder; keep an eye on that brother of yours?”

“I still think you misjudge my brother. Besides, I believe Lady Thea has proven herself capable of handling Loki,” he turned to Althea. “But I will stay if it will put you at ease.”

“No, go. I’m fine,” she said. She could see Thor was looking forward to time outside the tower. “Really,” she added for Tony’s benefit. 

He gave her a hard look before relenting. “Fine. But if he tries anything, you let us know.”

With that, he and Thor followed the rest out to the helipad and into the Quinjet. Settling into the window seat she watched them fly off. Once they were out of sight she located her book, still lying where she had abandoned it the day before and set it beside her. The city had already woken up, streams of people and cars flowing through the streets like a complex network of rivers. She watched them contentedly, the rhythm soothing her nerves. 

After a time, Althea turned away from the window and started at Loki standing not an arm’s length away. Her eyes flew shut as she gathered herself. Just how long had he been standing there, looking at her? Her pulse returning to normal, she looked back to him. He looked down at her over his nose, eyes narrowed and arms crossed: the picture of annoyance. She might have been offended if she hadn’t realized “annoyed” was more of a default state than a distinct emotion for him. 

Now that he had her attention, he spoke. “I wish you would find another spot to do your moping. This used to be my spot,” his tone perfectly matching his posture.

She dismissed his haughty attitude. “Well there’s plenty of room, don’t let me keep you from your moping spot.” She saw the ghost of a smirk flash across his face as she turned his own phrasing against him before his features returned to their usual aloof state. 

“This is merely the most ideal spot to read. I prefer the natural light.” He uncrossed his arms, revealing the small hardcover book he held in one hand. The volume looked ancient, yellow, brittle pages bound in what appeared to be worn leather. 

“So do I,” Thea said, picking up her own book from where it laid out of sight between her legs and the window. 

Loki’s eyebrows twitched upwards as he gave her an appraising look. 

“Go on then,” she gestured to the opposite side of the long padded window seat. “There’s plenty of room and sunlight for both of us. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be studying me or something?”

He scanned the length of the bench for a moment, looking from her to the empty space and back again, before letting out a sigh of resignation and sitting down. He mirrored her position, facing her with his back against the opposite wall, and immediately brought his book up, effectively blocking her from view.

“I prefer that side,” he muttered under his breath.

She ignored him and went about reading her own novel.

For a long time, they sat together in silence, Althea stealing the occasional glance in his direction. Loki seemed entirely engrossed in his reading, apparently foregoing his search for answers about her ability. He was reclined casually against the wall, one hand holding the book against a bent knee, the other leg extended forward across the length of the window seat. His free hand rested on his outstretched leg, coming up every so often to turn the page. A few strands of his dark hair had fallen in front of his face, but he ignored them completely, his eyes flying over the book at an impressive pace. His eyebrows were slightly drawn together in concentration, but he looked altogether more at ease than she had ever seen him. 

Althea was suddenly struck by how attractive relaxation looked on him. It was a pleasant contrast to the intensity he had displayed the previous night or his dismissive attitude towards the rest of the Avengers. Everyone besides Thor seemed to be on edge around the “trickster god”, and his response to their unease oscillated between indignation and detachment. Even Thor, despite his obvious affection for his younger brother and good-natured ribbing, seemed to make Loki uncomfortable. Althea realized she had never seen an expression of true happiness on him, beside the occasional small, secret smirk. He might even look handsome with a genuine smile, she thought. 

“Stop,” he interrupted her meandering thoughts without looking up. “You’re being utterly distracting.” 

“What?” Althea tried to hide blush behind her own text, eyes quickly returning to the words but too flustered to actually read anything. She’d been staring, she realized in a wave of embarrassment, and he’d noticed.

He raised his eyes and leveled her with an exasperated look. “If you’re not actually going to read you could at least leave me alone. I don’t enjoy being gawked at.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she countered weakly. She searched for where she had left off on the page, determined to keep her eyes from wandering back to him for the rest of the afternoon.

Althea woke to her forehead pressed against the cool glass. She was slumped sideways against the window, and her neck ached as a result of the awkward position. She blinked rapidly, trying to chase away the lingering drowsiness. She didn’t remember falling asleep. Judging by the sun’s lowered position in the sky, she had been out for a couple of hours. 

She sat up straight and attempted to stretch her stiff neck, closing her eyes as we rolled her head from side to side. When she opened them again, she noticed Loki, in the same position he’d been in when she drifted off. He was no longer reading. His book sat abandoned on the seat beside him. Instead, he was looking directly at her, studying her.

“You talk in your sleep,” he observed. 

Altha felt her face grow hot under his unwavering gaze. He’d been watching her sleep. The idea made her incredibly self-conscious, and oddly, a little flattered. She wracked her brain for a response. 

“Oh?”, was all she managed.

“Even in your sleep, you seem determined to be utterly disruptive.”

A mix of embarrassment and frustration deepened her blush. Loki’s unrelenting rudeness was getting on her nerves, she decided. She hadn’t done anything to merit his attitude towards her. If anything she’d been undeservedly friendly. He was free to be a bitter asshole to the rest of the team; that was their business, but whatever their history, she had nothing to do with it. He was the one determined to learn more about her; he could at least show a little If he wanted to distance himself from her, then he could walk away.

“No one’s forcing you to be in my company, you know,” she snapped at him. “It’s a big building, I’m sure you can find another window to sulk about.”

His eyes sparkled and the corners of his mouth shot up in a self-satisfied smirk. Clearly he was enjoying getting a rise out of her. “Ah, but as I said, this one is my favorite. Besides, I seem to remember you practically begging me to join you.” He gave her an amused, challenging look.

“I did not beg,” she argued. “And that was before I realized you’re committed to being a jerk every minute of every day. Maybe I would have told you to get lost if I’d had known how truly impossible you are to be around.” She gave him a hard look, and for the briefest second his expression shifted. Sadness? Resignation? It came and went too quickly for Althea to place it, replaced by his usual, amusement-tinged aloofness. Althea sighed. It was like he wanted her to dislike him, to push him away. In a wave of stubbornness, she decided not to let him succeed. He wanted to be difficult? Fine. She could be difficult too.

“But then again,” she sighed, cooling off, “the past few years have really lowered my bar for acceptable company.” She shot him a challenging grin of her own. “Comparatively you’re an absolute pleasure to be around.” 

Loki was caught off guard. He had been called many things over the years, but “a pleasure” had never been one of them. For once, he was at a loss for words. Thea clocked his hesitation.

“Huh. So all it takes to get you to shut up is a little praise, is that it?”, she teased. “Maybe I’ll tell Tony and the others. We can all shower you with compliments whenever someone needs a break from your attitude.”

“Careful, mortal. I could snap every bone in your body without so much as breaking a sweat.” His tone was harsh, but the threat didn’t reach his eyes. They searched her face, a mixture of apprehension and bewilderment swimming in their blue-green depths.

Althea merely shrugged, letting out a humored huff as she turned her gaze to look back out the window. The sun was beginning to set, the innumerable windows of the Manhattan skyline reflecting and amplifying the last vivid orange rays of light before dusk. “I’ve had worse.”

Loki turned to admire the view as well. This was indeed his favorite spot to spend his time, particularly when the rest of the tower’s inhabitants were gone and he was left alone. It was the perfect place to post up and pass the day reading. There wasn’t much else for him to do when everyone else was gone and he was left to his own devices. As endlessly arrogant and aggravating as Stark was, he did have a fantastic array of literature for Loki to work through. Often though, Loki found himself simply admiring the city he had once tried so hard to destroy, filled with an unspoken relief that he had failed. 

From the corner of his eye, he studied Althea’s face as she took in the view. It had been easy enough to come up with a reason to spend more time in her company. He was, after all, truly interested in her strange ability and its mysterious origins, but he couldn’t deny she had caught his attention long before he became aware of her healing. 

She was the first human he’d met that hadn’t immediately treated him with disdain or outright hatred. She didn’t seem to know about his doomed attempt to wage war on her planet. He wondered what her reaction would be when she found out; when she learned of his past and his mistakes. Would she treat him like everyone else? Would she think him a monster as well? Of course she would, he reasoned. She would join the world in their hatred and distrust, kicking herself for ever giving a villain such as himself the time of day.

But for now, she didn’t know and she still looked at him with nothing more than curiosity and mild apprehension. He decided to allow himself to enjoy the small comfort it brought, even if he knew better than to trust it to last for any length of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize - I'm a little late posting this then I would have liked. From here on out, I'm going to try to limit myself to a chapter a week. I'd totally wipe myself out in a heartbeat turning out chapters as quickly as possible, but I've been advised to keep it a little more regular.
> 
> Anyways.....
> 
> Lots more Loki/Althea interactions this time around! Plus, a little peek into Loki's mind. I can't wait for these two to get to know one another. I can't wait to see how everyone else reacts to Loki having something like a friend. Let's be honest, I just can't wait for the rest of this story and how you all react to it.


	8. A Complete Party

Before long, the two of them had returned to their separate reading. Althea marveled at the speed with which Loki was devouring the tome in his hands, emphasized by the crisp sound of the ancient pages turning every few seconds.

Stealing a move from his playbook, she addressed him without looking up from her text. “Either you’re reading a picture book or you’re the fastest reader I’ve ever seen,” she said light-heartedly. 

“The latter,” he replied simply. “Though I admit I’m rather familiar with this volume. I’ve read it many times.”

“What’s it about?” Althea set her copy of The Count of Monte Cristo aside, enticed by the opportunity to learn more about the enigmatic god.

“Candlemaking.”

Althea looked at him blankly, taken by surprise. “…really? And that’s… that’s something you’re into, then?”

Loki lowered the book, his expression a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“Do I look like someone who makes candles in their spare time?”

Althea answered with an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders. “How would I know? Why would you keep rereading a book about making candles if you’re not interested?”

Loki tensed, the amusement falling from his face. “I… wasn’t able to bring many Asgardian texts with me. My selection is a little limited as a result.”

Althea peered past Loki to the wall of stuffed bookshelves behind him. “There are plenty of books here. I’m sure you could find something a little more entertaining than a book about wax.”

“Midgardian books,” he scoffed. “I’m not interested in what passes for literature on this backward planet.” He had, in actuality, dipped into Stark’s impressive library many times, even finding a few pieces that he quite enjoyed, but he refused to admit that to her. Better to keep her, like everyone else, at arm's length, he reasoned. And since she neither feared nor hated him like the rest of her race, he would just have to rely on his signature air of superiority.

“You are so…. pompous,” she said, shaking her head.

Loki expected her expression to match her harsh words but found she was smiling.

“Here.” She stuck her copy of The Count of Monte Cristo out for him. She still had a few chapters left in the novel, but she figured she’d get it back soon enough - it wouldn’t take Loki long to get through the French work. “You’ll like this,” she insisted, extending it out a little further.

Loki hesitantly reached out to take the book from her hand. He held it gingerly, sneering as though it were made from refuse. “And what is this about?”

“Oh the usual,” she feigned, “adventure, love…” 

Loki rolled his eyes dramatically. 

“…betrayal, prison breaks, deceit, vengeance, some murder,” she continued, awaiting his reaction.

Loki’s eyebrows raised. Althea figured the darker themes would appeal to him. 

Loki studied the cover with an appraising look. “I suppose I could give it a try.” He sounded reluctant, but quickly cracked the cover and began reading. 

Her reading material now firmly occupying Loki’s attention, Althea decided to fix herself a snack. The perpetually stocked fridge made the task equal parts easy and challenging and she found herself trying to choose amongst the ample selection for a few minutes. When she finally emerged, the ingredients for a simple salad in hand, she caught Loki making his exit.

“Still wordlessly fleeing rooms, then?”, Althea called out after him. 

“It’s about to become a little crowded for my taste,” he replied, neither turning around nor pausing his stride. 

Althea watched him go, realizing that the two of them had, essentially, just spent the day together. She’d even go so far as to call it a nice day together. Sure, Loki had been snarky and more than a little haughty, but she was proud of her ability to keep up with him. She’d even caught him off-guard a few times, though he’d be loath to admit it. As she assembled her salad she pondered what book she would recommend to the other-worldly prince next.

From a young age, her parents had encouraged her penchant for reading, often pushing her towards more and more difficult works. She had been steadily making her way through ‘the classics’ with their guidance.  
“You have to start with the classics,” her mother had told her. “You can learn just about anything about the world through them.”

“Plus, you’ll have a leg up in school. Easier to write a book report on something you’ve already read,” her father had added, always the more practical of the two.

It was one of the few concrete memories she had left of her parents. Althea tried to push the nostalgic recollection aside. If she didn’t think about them, then she didn’t have to think about their demise. She focused instead on adding just the right number of croutons to the bed of greens in front of her.

She’d only taken a few bites when she heard the Quinjet landing behind her, signaling the return of Steve Rogers and the rest. She turned to greet them as they made their way back inside.

“You do realize there are other rooms in this place,” quipped Tony immediately heading to the bar to fix himself a drink. “This building’s got 93 floors and you’ve got clearance for oh, 20 of them? You don’t have to spend all your time here, you know.”

“I like the view,” she mumbled through a mouthful of spinach, shrugging. She swallowed before continuing. I like reading in the window seats. Not much else for me to do.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll have to do something about that,” Tony said, throwing a meaningful look towards Steve and Natasha in turn. 

“You and my brother have that in common,” Thor said, smiling. Althea wondered if he was referring to reading by the window or having nothing else to do.

“I know,” she told him, stabbing another forkful of greens and chasing a rather evasive crouton around the bowl. “I actually got him to read a book from Earth: The Count of Monte Cristo,” she boasted.

“Huh. Good choice. That’ll appeal to the whole ‘victim complex’ deal he’s got going on,” Tony commended.

“Stark…” Thor warned. It was endearing, the way he stood up for his brother, even against Stark’s throwaway jokes. 

“Actually, I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten to that one yet,” Tony continued, unperturbed.

“…what?” Althea looked at him, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“That guy’s a voracious reader. Goes through about three books a day sometimes,” Nat chimed in as she passed Althea to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. 

“Loki said he only read books from Asgard,” Althea persisted. “He said our literature was below him.”

“That arrogant little shit,” Tony cursed, rolling his eyes. “He’s read just about every book in the place.”

“One time I watched him read all of Lord of the Rings in one sitting. He even read The Silmarillion,” Bruce interjected, his expression one of exaggerated disbelief. “Who does that?” 

“That arrogant little shit,” Althea echoed. Still, she smiled to herself. Loki could pretend he held nothing but disdain for humans, but now she knew better. She looked forward to calling him out on his lie.

“We’ve got more important things to discuss than Loki’s reading habits,” Steve reminded them dutifully.

“Right, yeah.” Tony looked at Althea, his playful demeanor gone. “So kid, you’ve been staying with us for a while now. We finally know why Hydra was interested in you and you’re not a secret from SHIELD anymore. Really, there’s no longer a reason for us to keep you here.”

Althea felt the blood drain from her face. Before accidentally healing Loki and revealing her ability to the rest of the Avengers, she had been afraid they would continue Hydra’s experimentations. When the team had left this morning, she’d been worried that they’d hand her over to yet another shadowy organization. She’d never considered that they’d simply turn her out, leave her to her own devices in the world, abandon her. It was suddenly harder to breathe. She didn’t know anyone outside this tower. She was otherwise entirely alone. How would she get by? What would she do?

“Jesus, Tony, you couldn’t think of a better way to phrase that?”, scolded Natasha. 

“What Tony means to say,” Steve shot the billionaire an exasperated look, “is that you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. No one’s kicking you out, but you’re free to go if you want.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” Althea said defeatedly. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“I could, of course, help you out there,” Tony told her flippantly. “Set you up with a place, some scratch, even a job. You could live the rest of your life in comfortable obscurity, free from the troubles of the world.” He paused then, letting the idea sink in. “Or, and here’s an interesting idea, you could join us. This party could use a cleric.”

“A what?” Thor and Steve posed the question in unison. Off to the side, Bruce snorted. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“A cleric… you know, a healer? We’ve got just about every other class spoken for. Cap’s our fighter. Nat’s a monk and Clint’s a ranger. Banner is clearly the barbarian, that one’s so obvious it’s not even funny. We even have a paladin with Thor bringing his god power into the mix, and I’m clearly a rogue. A cleric would really round out the gang.”“Eh, you’re more of an artificer, Tony,” Bruce cut in, now openly chuckling. 

“Fair enough. I’m an artificer with roguish good looks.” 

“Will someone tell me what in the world he’s going on about?”, Steve asked, exhausted by the conversation’s left turn.

“Dungeons and Dragons, old-timer,” a nonplussed Tony answered.

“I have fought many dragons and even I am confused,” said Thor.

“It’s a kind of roleplaying game. Every player has a different class and skills to… wait, you’ve fought dragons? Like, actual, fire-breathing dragons?” Bruce stared at Thor in amazement.

Before Thor could launch into another boastful tale, Tony cut him off. “My point is, we could use someone like you on the team, Thea. So what do you say? Want to be an Avenger?”

All eyes turned to Althea. She stood frozen on the spot, eyes wide and jaw slack. For a moment it looked like she wouldn’t respond. Finally, she spoke. “You want me to join you? To… to fight crime and save the world and stuff?” Her voice was breathy in her disbelief. 

“Only if you want to,” assured Steve, stepping forward. “It’s entirely up to you. I won't lie to you, it's a dangerous job. No one would blame you for saying no, but we think you’d be a good addition to the team.”

Althea focused on him, finding his warmth and confidence comforting. “I don’t know the first thing about fighting.”

“You don’t have to do any fighting,” Steve answered, “but it sure would be nice to have someone like you around in case someone gets hurt.”

“You’re like the Swiss Army medic, kid,” Tony added.

Natasha moved to stand beside Steve. Her expression was softer than any Althea had ever seen her wear. “I know healing others causes you pain, and I know you’ve had enough pain for a lifetime. But I also know you want to help people. This could be your opportunity; your chance to use that power for good.” The two women looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. Althea knew very little about Natasha or her past, but she was starting to realize the two might have more in common than she’d guessed.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Steve began. “You can-“

“I’ll do it,” Althea cut him off. “I want to help, anyway I can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote a whole scene in which Loki is too arrogant to have read any human literature so he rereads what few books he has from Asgard, even the boring ones. Then I went back, reread the previous chapter, and realized I’d fully contracted that idea. The scene was too dear to me to get rid of though, so I decided to take full advantage of Loki’s penchant for lying. What a little shit, I love writing him so much.
> 
> Also, I can’t stop imagining how silly it would be if the Avengers played D&D. I feel like Cap would try to DM, but he’d be incredibly bad at portraying the villains. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Get ready for some more quality one-on-one scenes in the future.


	9. Things In Common

Althea was an Avenger. Well, an Avenger in training, as Tony had been quick to point out. She mulled over her circumstances as she made her way to her room for the night. Training, missions, saving the world; she struggled to imagine herself amongst the elite heroes she had come to share her life with. They didn’t expect her to fight, but from what Steve had told her, she would be expected to learn some self-defense and basic maneuvering at the very least. She didn’t have to actively participate in combat, but she couldn’t get in the others’ way, either. 

Thor had, of course, immediately offered to take up Althea’s training, always eager for a good fight. The blood drained from her face as she considered the idea of squaring off against the god of thunder and all his might. Thankfully, he was dismissed out of hand, and ultimately Natasha was designated as her instructor. She was the more logical choice: though vastly more agile and skilled in combat, she was close to Althea’s size and could teach her how to make the most of her meager strength. More importantly, Nat didn’t possess superhuman strength or harness the power of lighting. 

Training wouldn’t start for a few days, however, as Natasha was being sent to do some reconnaissance on a lead in South America. The spy, more than all the others, never seemed to take a day off.

That night, in the dark solitude of her room, Althea thought of how much had changed in the span of a single day. The sheer joy she felt at her new sense of belonging threatened to overwhelm her. For the first time since her childhood, she had a home and, she realized, a family. It was far from traditional, true, but her acceptance into the rag-tag group felt all the more meaningful for its strangeness. 

She’d grown incredibly fond of them all, even Clint, whom she rarely saw. As exhaustion pulled her closer and closer to sleep, she considered them all in turn. Steve’s earnest and caring heart, Tony’s dedication to making light of any given situation, Bruce’s endearing countenance and impressive intellect, Natasha’s enigmatic nature, Thor’s contrasting open and boisterous demeanor; they each brought such different personalities and skills to the table in their joint effort to protect humanity. 

As sleep overtook her, her thoughts turned to Loki, the outsider. He was cold and distant, but that only served to pique her interest. She recalled how different he had looked the few times she’d caught him with his guard down, how she had inexplicably wanted to reach out and brush his raven locks out of his eyes as he read. She was thinking about those same eyes, their blues and greens swimming with unknown depths, as she finally slipped into slumber.

The following morning Althea woke in good spirits. Her routine was simple and she readied herself quickly, pausing to regard herself in the mirror before she made for the door. The woman looking back at her was barely recognizable as the same broken, scared creature that had arrived here just a few weeks ago. Her skin was no longer sickly pale and practically transparent but radiated a healthy, pink glow. The sharp edges of her malnourished body had rounded significantly as a result of the unlimited access to food. Her cheeks were pleasantly plump now and the dark circles under her eyes were long gone. Even her hair shone with a new brilliance, the now even strands falling in loose waves down to her shoulders. 

She found herself fiddling with a particularly disobedient piece as she attempted to force it into submission. No matter how she pulled or twisted, it seemed determined to flip out awkwardly. She struggled with it for a few moments longer before giving up, her huff of frustration blowing it out at an even more ridiculous angle. Althea wondered why the wayward piece of hair was affecting her at all. She’d never given much thought to her appearance before. Without another glance, she left the room.

Loki was waiting for her in the hallway, leaning against his door, the picture of boredom. 

“I’ve finished.” He held out the borrowed copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. She took it from him, and he quickly withdrew his hand. 

Althea examined the tome, noting its thickness. She knew Loki was a fast reader, having seen him in action, yet she was still surprised he’d managed to finish the book in the span of a single night. 

“So? What did you think?”

“It has its merits,” he admitted, “Though I could teach Dantès a thing or two about true vengeance.” He offered her a diabolical grin. 

“I’m sure you could.” She tucked the novel under her arm and began walking down the hall. To her surprise, Loki fell in step beside her.

“The escape was rather ingenious, I’ll give him that,” he continued.

“Don’t get any ideas.” Dantès’ escape involved sneaking out in a body bag, presumed to hold another prisoner. Althea shuddered to think how Loki might employ a similar plan. 

“You needn’t worry. I have my own, far more sophisticated tricks. I don’t need to borrow from your fiction,” he boasted. 

She looked at him dubiously. “Is that so?”

“My dear, you have no idea.”Althea stumbled slightly, caught off guard by the term of endearment he’d dropped so casually. Falling behind Loki’s long, confident stride, she felt herself blush, the uncomfortable heat rising in her cheeks. Absentmindedly she fingered the stubborn lock she’d been tried in vain to tame. 

Loki pressed the ‘up’ button beside the elevator doors and turned around, taking in her frozen, frazzled demeanor. “Ah, so you are easy to fluster after all.” His wolfish smile radiated self-satisfaction. “Just another one of my many skills.” He tapped his lips with the tip of his slender finger and shot her a playful wink. “Silver tongue.” 

Althea shook herself out of her stupor and joined in waiting for the elevator, shoulders tense with irritation. He was teasing her and she, who had never really experienced flirting, had allowed it to get the better of her. Silently, she cursed herself for falling for the trick so easily, payback on her mind. By the time the elevator arrived, she had an idea. 

“What did you think you think of the way Dumas incorporated Napoleon into the story?”, she asked as nonchalantly as she could manage. “I thought the historical context really helped to lend the story a sense of realism.” She hoped Loki would think she was merely trying to hide her embarrassment by changing the subject. 

“It was more of a distraction than anything,” he replied, playing along. The elevator doors slid open and he stepped into the lounge, Althea on his heels. “I’m not overly familiar with that period of Midgardian history.”

“Makes sense,” she said, shrugging. “So what? Do you prefer something less realistic, like Lord of the Rings? Something that totally immerses you in another, fantastical world?”

Loki turned to face her. “I’d hardly call Tolkien’s work ‘fantastical’. I suspect he merely had knowledge of the other realms. Dwarves and elves are well known amongst…” he trailed off as he noticed Althea’s lips curling into a smug, knowing smirk. “What?”, he spat, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“Nothing, nothing. I just never knew that trilogy was published on Asgard,” she mused insincerely. “Was it a big seller? It’s quite popular on our backwards planet.”

Loki cocked his head, confused, before he realized his error.

“Is it? How… interesting,” he tried to backtrack. “I wonder how it arrived in Asgard,” he added weakly, the grimace on his face a clear indication he didn’t expect her to buy it.

Althea rolled her eyes at his poor performance. “Really? Just admit it, Loki. You lied.” She planted her hands on her hips proudly. “You lied, and I tricked you into slipping up.”

Loki’s eyes slipped shut and he sighed in defeat. “Fine,” he growled through clenched teeth. “I will admit my guard was lowered.” He turned and walked over to the bookcases and studied the spines with feigned interest. “I expected you to be just as transparent as the rest of your… teammates.” His back was to her, but from the way the last word fell from his lips, coated in disgust, Althea could tell he was sneering.

“So you know about that, huh?”

“Obviously,” came his deadpan response.

“I take it you don’t approve.”

“Would it matter?” He abandoned his examination and faced her again, his expression challenging.

Althea gave the question some consideration. “It wouldn’t change my mind if that’s what you’re asking, but I’d still like to know.”

“I don’t care what you do. If you want to waste your life running around playing hero with the rest of those imbeciles, be my guest,” he told her flippantly. 

The urge to defend her new friends overtook her suddenly, her resolve not to let Loki get under her skin forgotten. Imbeciles? He had no right to insult them like that. They had freed her, taken her in, and welcomed her graciously. They’d all opened up to her and made her feel safe opening up in return. And when the time came, they’d given her a choice: to live her life safe and provided for or to join them and fight for the greater good. 

“Why are you even here?”, she snapped. She pinned him with a hard look. “You never go out on, or help with, any missions. You barely bother to speak to anyone besides me and Thor, and even then you’re demeaning and rude. You’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t care about anything or anyone. I just don’t get it. Why are you here?”, she repeated the question for emphasis. Her outburst had come out harsher than she’d intended, but she refused to back down.

Loki didn’t answer immediately. Althea had admonished his behavior before but had quickly diffused the situation on her own. No such distraction came this time. She was determined to get an answer. Thrown off by her intensity, he decided to tell the truth. 

“I was given a choice; be a prisoner here, with Thor and his so-called ‘friends', or on Asgard, with my poor excuse for a father. I chose the cell with more square footage.”

“Prisoner? You’re here against your will?” 

Loki sighed in exasperation. “I thought you were clever enough to have worked that out on your own by now.”

Althea barely registered the compliment, too overwhelmed by this new revelation. “Why?”, she pressed.

It was a logical question, asked simply. The answer was infinitely more complicated. Loki knew his mistakes were innumerable. There was a time when it had all felt justified. He’d grown tired of living in Thor’s shadow, watching his thick-headed brother inch closer and closer to a throne he neither deserved nor was prepared to handle. Then Odin had revealed the truth of his parentage, and his jealousy had turned to righteous rage. The long years of his life spent treated as an outcast, as “other”, finally made sense. He had only been trying to prove himself, but his father would never see his actions as anything more than disobedience. 

Everything changed when he fell off the bridge and into the Mad Titan’s grasp. His actions were no longer justified. He hadn’t been fueled by jealousy or rage or the desire to prove himself. No, fear had been the driving force, turning his eyes towards Earth even as it blinded him to his better judgment.

He couldn’t simply lay out his crimes without trying to explain his reasoning, and as much as he inexplicably wanted to trust this mortal, he doubted she would understand.

Althea watched the internal debate as it raged behind his eyes, her quickly fading. What he had done, she couldn’t venture to guess, but it was clear he felt conflicted over whatever landed him in his current situation. After a few moments without a word from Loki, she tried another approach.

“Do you deserve it?”, she asked, now calm.

Loki snapped out of his racing thoughts. For the first time, Althea saw vulnerability on his pained face.

“Yes.” His voice was quiet, devoid of his usual jesting tone.

“Are you going to hurt me? Should I be afraid?”

If anyone else had asked that question he would have answered “yes” without hesitation. He was a god, after all; it was only right that these weak mortals should fear him. But there was something different about this one. It wasn’t her uncanny ability, as interesting as it was. It was just… her. She was patient yet persistent, innocent yet witty. Even now, rather than judgment or disgust her face showed only kind patience as she awaited his answer. It was an expression he wasn’t used to seeing directed his way. She was good; not in the exhausting, self-righteous way in which Steve Rogers was “good”, but in an easy, natural way that seemed to challenge those around her to see the world as she did. It was a challenge Loki found himself wanting to face.

He met her unwavering gaze. “No.”

She recalled what Thor had said of Loki. “Under it all, my brother has a good heart. I have seen it, and I believe the others will see it also, in time.” She hadn’t known what Thor had been talking about when he’d referenced Loki’s mistakes. Now it was all beginning to make sense. She decided to keep her promise to Thor and reserve judgment for the time being. 

“I’m going to choose not to read into how long it took you to answer that question,” she quipped. And just like that, the tension of the moment was broken. 

Loki blinked, caught off guard once again by Althea’s ability to shake off the weightiest of situations. He hummed in acknowledgment but turned back to the bookcase. Once again he made a show of looking through the titles, absorbing none of them. In the end, he plucked a book off the shelf at random. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. Confident his mask of indifference was solidly back in place, he faced her once more.

“You gave me a book about a falsely imprisoned man,” he stated thoughtfully.

Althea merely shrugged. “Yeah. Strange coincidence in retrospect.” The irony was not lost on her.

“In my experience, there is no such thing as coincidence,” Loki countered.

“I picked it up because it reminded me of my own situation. I had no idea we had so much in common.”

“We are nothing alike,” he hissed, his voice full of derision. Only Loki knew said derision was directed at himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm 100% percent in the "Loki was not in his right mind during the Battle of New York" camp, if you couldn't tell.  
> Also, my boy Tolkien drew a lot of inspiration from Norse mythology. It only made sense that Loki would be drawn to it. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! I'm truly blown away by the response this story has gotten already. I'm especially thankful for all your kind comments. I'm always open to critiques as well. Again, this is my first time ever attempting fan fiction and the kudos and replies mean so much to me as a new writer.


	10. Exploration and Entrapment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of days early with this update. I hope that's okay with you all. /s

Even here, over a thousand feet in the air, New York was too loud. With a twitch of his fingers, Loki called forth his magic to surround him and silence the noise of the streets below. He did not bask in the sudden peacefulness, however, too preoccupied with his tumultuous thoughts.

He’d departed from her abruptly, tossing a casual farewell in her direction as he left so as to appear unaffected by their talk. He’d required space away from her to gather his thoughts. Now that he stood on the roof of Stark Tower, the sight of his gravest mistake, he found his frustration at their interaction growing into a rage.

Rigidly perched on the edge of the building, his alabaster face twisted in a hateful scowl, he might have been mistaken for another of the city’s stony gargoyles; a grotesquely beautiful new addition to the towering skyscraper.

Hatred boiled beneath his skin, raw and fierce, as he replayed the conversation in his mind. Loki was a master of evasion, both on the battlefield and in speech. No one ever managed to get close to him, to get past his defenses. Yet somehow she had made him drop his guard.He was angry at himself for his weakness. He was even angrier at her for making him show it.

Her magic was to blame. He was sure of it. Somehow she had used it to break down his mental defenses without his realizing, forcing him into a pitiful display of vulnerability. He checked his guards for any gaps she may have weaseled her way through but found them intact. Whatever she had done, it left no trace. 

The mortal did possess magic, that much was evident.

It had been clear from the moment she’d laid her hands on his wound; the glow of her hands familiar and unmistakable. Healing magic was no stranger to Loki. He himself had mastered the craft in his youth. It came in handy on the rare occasion his foe was able to land a blow. He’d even used it from time to time on his brother after battles, on the rarer occasion he was feeling particularly generous. Althea’s magic was faster, granted, but far less sophisticated in turn. Neither he nor the other healers of Asgard needed to absorb another’s hurt to rid them of their injuries.

But even her capabilities, as crude as they were, should not be possible. Not for a Midgardian.

It had sparked a curiosity within him, feeding off his insatiable thirst for knowledge of all things regarding sorcery. The spark had only grown after he’d confronted her, believing she truthfully had no idea how she’d come to possess such magic. It’d driven him to join her on the window seat.

In his ire, he chose to ignore the other reasons he had been drawn to her company.

When she fell asleep against the window, he had seen his chance and taken it without a second thought. Cautiously, he had allowed his magic to reach out, ready to gauge whatever power it would find harbored within her.

Loki was used to testing his opponents this way, though he had not had a reason to use this ability since his imprisonment on Earth. Every magic-user carried with them the aura of their power, an intangible cloud surrounding them that spoke to their strength. Focused, he was able to judge the skill of whatever sorcerer had the misfortune to go toe-to-toe against him. Thrown wide, it revealed anyone who might be hiding out of sight, hoping to take him by surprise.

He should have been able to sense her magic right away, given their close proximity. But he felt nothing. He’d pushed it even further until the outer edge of his magical probe was less than an inch from her. Still, nothing.

It had vexed him. No one could completely shield their magic, not even himself. Perhaps he had been wrong after all. Perhaps her ability was indeed another human manipulation. Desperate for answers, he closed the distance, allowing his magic to wash over her.

Suddenly he knew. He wasn’t wrong. It was magic, but unlike any he had experienced before. It did not swirl around her but was trapped within her. He did not have time to consider how such a thing as possible, however, as Althea had begun to stir, awoken by the contact of his magic. When she awoke caught him still looking at her curiously, he had used his silver tongue to explain the situation away.

He’d pondered this discovery all night, even as he finished the book she had lent him. While he usually preferred to sleep in, he had risen early, eager to catch her and attempt to find out more.

Instead, he’d allowed himself to be fooled by her innocent demeanor and surprising wit, lulled into complacency until he’d let his perfected mask slip.

He cursed aloud, unsure if the expletive was directed at her or himself. One thing was for certain: she would not get the better of him again.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Althea watched Loki leave, reeling in the wake of their conversation.

_He’s a prisoner here._

She would withhold judgment, she reminded herself. The borrowed book still in her hand, she settled into her usual spot by the window. She made an earnest attempt to pick up where she had left off the previous night, but the words could not hold her attention. She glanced across the bench to the spot Loki had occupied when they’d read together in peace, finding its current emptiness distracting.

With a frustrated huff, she snapped the book shut. She turned to look out the window, but found the view, as breathtaking as it was, held her interest no more than the now discarded prose.

_He said he deserved it._

Tony was right. She spent too much time in the lounge. Certainly, something in this towering building had to be a capable distraction. She got up and followed Loki’s path out of the room and into the elevator, determination lending her steps an uncharacteristic heaviness. She scanned the bank of buttons. Nearly a hundred numbered options shone back at her. Ghosting her finger over them, she considered her options.

The training rooms did not seem worthwhile, given she would no doubt be spending plenty of her time there in the coming days. The kitchen and dining floors were no more appealing. There were the labs and briefing rooms, but as of now none of the equipment in either were of any sense or use to her. With them eliminated, Althea ran out of familiar destinations.

It would be up to chance then. She was about to choose a floor at random when one caught her eye. There, at the bottom, a lettered button stood out amongst its numbered counterparts.

G: The ground floor. Street-level.

Why had she never thought of it before? It seemed so obvious now. Not everyone could enter and exit the structure via highly advanced airship; other, non-super humans would use the more traditional entrance. And if they could come and go, then so could she.

The very thought of stepping outside sent her finger crashing into the button with more force than necessary. She felt excitement building in her chest as she waited for the elevator to descend.

It didn’t move. She pressed the button again, this time using a softer, more determined touch. Still, the elevator remained stubbornly unmoving.

“Jarvis?”, she called out, knowing she could always count on the courteous AI to answer.

“Yes, Miss Parks?”

“I think I might have broken the elevator.”

There was a brief pause before he responded. “Everything appears to be in working order.”

She looked at the buttons curiously and gave the one for the ground floor another push. Again, the car remained still.

“Then why can’t I get to the ground floor?”

“You currently do not have clearance for that level. I can illuminate all floors you are able to access, if that would help.” Almost instantly half the buttons on the panel went dark, including the first floor.

Althea ignored the change. “Clearance? What could possibly be on the first floor of this place that I’m not allowed to see? I’m not going to meddle with anything, I just want to go outside.”

“Mr. Stark has instructed that you are to remain within Stark Tower for the time being.”

She wasn’t allowed to leave. Once again, she was being held like a captive. She’d been so busy enjoying the relative freedom of her new life, she hadn’t even realized it.

_More square footage._

“And where is _Mr. Stark_?”, she demanded, borrowing her new-found cellmate’s signature venom.

“Mr. Stark is currently in Upper Manhattan giving a speech at Columbia University,” JARVIS replied cooly.

Of course. Althea imagined the choice words she would have for the billionaire upon his return. Loki’s surly demeanor suddenly made perfect sense to her. But unlike Loki, Althea hadn’t done anything to deserve this. Tony had no right.

But Tony wasn’t really the one in charge. Not when it came to the Avengers.

“Where’s Steve?”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Steve Roger met Althea’s fiery gaze with an empathetic one of his own. “I can’t convince Tony to let you leave.”

“Why not? I know he owns, well, everything, but you’re the one in charge of the team, right?” Althea was rapidly loosing steam. It was hard to argue with the determinedly calm man seated before her.

“I can’t convince Tony to let you leave because it wasn’t his decision,” he explained. “It was mine.”

“ _You’re_ the one keeping me locked up in here? Like some sort of prisoner?”

_We are nothing alike._

“You’re not a prisoner, Althea. We gave you a choice, remember? A choice you’re still free to make, if you’ve changed your mind.”

“I haven’t,” she insisted.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“But I still don’t understand. I don’t know how signing up has anything to do with me being allowed outside.”

“It doesn’t,” he told her. “Even if you’d chosen differently, I wouldn’t have allowed you to walk around New York by yourself. It’s not safe.”

“Safe? You heard what I’ve been through, right? And look,” she held her hand out for emphasis, the skin of her palm where she had sliced it open in front of him smooth and unmarred. “Not a scratch. I think I can handle a few hours in the city.”

Steve held her eye contact, his face stern. “I’m not worried about you getting hurt. I’m worried about you being captured,” he said levelly.“Dozens of HYDRA’s agents saw us before they escaped. They know we took you out of that place. More importantly, they know _where_ we took you. We’re not a particularly covert operation here. We’ve been keeping an eye out, but I guarantee there are agents watching this building as we speak. If you walk out that door alone and unprepared, you’re walking right back into their clutches.”

His explanation was sound. It was also incredibly disheartening.

“So I’m never going to be allowed out of here?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She felt defeated. Even now, as a future Avenger, she was to be controlled by fear,

Steve’s expression softened. “It’s only temporary. Once it’s safe, you’ll be free to come and go as you wish, same as anyone else. We’ll handle HYDRA for now. You just focus on your training. I’ll feel a lot better about letting you go out on your own when I know you can give them the beat down they deserve.”

Althea accepted Steve’s reasoning, but the thought of stepping out into the street had awakened a thirst for fresh air she hadn’t realized she’d been harboring. With no small amount of consternation, she rode the elevator back up to the lounge. She did not resume her usual position by the window, however, but bypassed it with quick steps, passing through the doors that led to the helipad.

It wasn’t freedom, but at least there was a breeze.

A few floors above, a movement in his peripheral vision caught Loki’s attention. Instinctually he flicked his wrist and simultaneously rendered himself invisible and allowing sound to reach him once more. Secure he would remain unseen, he looked down and found Althea striding across the helipad. From her intense expression and determined, resolute pace, he almost expected her to walk right off the side. Instead, she stopped short, perilously close to the edge.

Loki bit back the urge to leap down and pull her away from the precipice, reminding himself that he did not care if she fell. Still, his heart leapt into his throat as a particularly strong gust pushed her forward and threatened to send her plummeting.

Althea, on the other hand, merely leant back against the breeze casually to maintain her balance. She closed her eyes, the tension in her shoulders melting in the warmth of the late summer sun on her skin. For a moment she looked completely at ease.

And then she broke.

It started slowly, a hitch in her breath that Loki mistook for a chuckle at first. Then, as her shoulders began to shake, he noticed the shine of fresh tears on her cheeks. She half sat, half collapsed on the edge, unconsciously mirroring Loki’s own position as sobs began to rack her slender frame. He watched her curiously. He momentarily wondered if this display was for his benefit; another one of her deceitful charades designed to lower his guard, but he knew she hadn’t spotted him. Whatever the reason for her tears, they were meant to be private.

If he weren’t still furious with her for tricking him that morning he might have felt guilty for watching her so voyeuristically. As it stood, he watched her shamelessly.

Althea allowed herself to cry freely for a few minutes before gathering herself. She wiped her wet cheeks roughly with the back of her hand. Crying was useless. Hadn’t she learned as much after years spent crying in the dark confines of her room? Unlike then, she had a way out of her current entrapment.

If Steve wanted her to prove she could take care of herself, then that’s exactly what she would do. She scanned the horizon, mentally willing Natasha to return as soon as possible. Training couldn’t start soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think I was going to have Loki fall for Althea that easily, did you? Untrustworthiness begets mistrust, my dudes. 
> 
> I originally planned to tell this story solely from Althea's perspective, but pretty quickly realized that wasn't going to fly. Loki's a character filled with internal conflict. He's also really good at concealing said conflict. Without his perspective, I feel like any change in his attitude would feel too sudden and unearned. 
> 
> That said, I get really nervous about writing Loki's thoughts. He's a beautifully complex character. That's why we all love him, right? I only hope I do him some justice here.


	11. Vigilance or Voyeurism

Althea was far from what any normal person would describe as “fit”, let alone up to the high standards of the Avengers.

She was, of course, healthy. Her ability automatically saw to that. But she had spent nearly half her life merely shuffling from one room to another, never exerting herself beyond the limited physical activity required of her. It hadn’t always been that way, she recalled. There had been a time in her youth, before the accident, when she had even been on her school’s track team, encouraged by her coach to make use of her long legs for events like hurdles and long jumping, but that was no more than a vague memory to her now. If her mind had only a slight recollection of what it was like to be physically active, her body had forgotten entirely.

She finished her last lap of the facility, nearly collapsing beside where Natasha waited. Doubled over with her hands on her knees, Althea sucked air into her starved lungs and tried to ignore the pooling sweat on her brow.

Natasha’s expression was patient as she waited for Althea to regain her breath. It was a few moments before she was able to stand up straight, wincing at the burning muscles in her legs.

“Not bad,” Nat commended with a small smile once Althea was able to look her face to face.

Still panting, Althea chuckled. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“She’s right. You shouldn’t lie to her. That was abysmal.”

With narrowed eyes, both women looked over to where Loki sat splayed out a bench a few feet away. He took in Althea’s thoroughly flushed and gleaming face with obvious amusement.

For the past three days, Loki had been Althea’s near-constant shadow. She might have been glad for the company if it weren’t for his stubborn refusal to engage in any sort of conversation. At first, she’d thought he was merely embarrassed after their previous talk in the lounge, but after the entire day passed with only terse responses to her questions or barbed insults in her direction from Loki, she began to think there was more to it.

The second day was more of the same. After countless attempts to engage him, she’d finally snapped and asked him why he was following her around.

“I told you. I’m going to figure you out,” he’d told her simply.

“And what, you can’t talk to me and observe me at the same time?”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Althea could only blink in response. Loki had never been her friend, per se, but circumstances had made him the closest person to her. His sudden change in attitude stung. It didn’t seem wise to push the subject though, so she’d tried her best to ignore his silent presence. She was used to constant surveillance, though the growing similarities between her new life and her time with HYRDA unsettled her.

The smile fell from Althea’s face, but Natasha simply shook her head.

“Don’t listen to him. Come on, let’s do some stretches. Then we’ll start training.”

“ _Start?_ ” Althea turned to her instructor in disbelief. “What was all the running if it wasn’t training?”

Behind her, she heard Loki’s low chuckle.

Even Natasha couldn’t keep her amusement hidden. Smirking, she started towards the center of the room. “That was cardio. Come on, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“I’ll say,” Loki muttered just loud enough for Althea to hear. She shot him a withering look before following after Natasha.

————————————————————————-

Loki watched Althea’s pathetic attempts at throwing a punch from his spot on the sidelines, watching for anything that would speak to her magic or its source. Just like the past few days, she remained remarkably… unremarkable. He felt her magic surge after a particularly poorly thrown punch that had no doubt resulted in a broken wrist, but it was small and short-lived. For the most part, it simply sat dormant, still curiously contained but otherwise unexceptionable.

Following her had proven as tedious as it was fruitless, made even more so by her persistent efforts to draw him into conversation.

He’d considered using invisibility to tail her unseen but decided against it in the end. He wanted her to know that he was there. His pride demanded it. He wanted her to see he could not be broken so easily.

Her magic slightly pulsed again as she failed to block a kick to her shin, automatically healing the broken capillaries that might have otherwise resulted in a nasty bruise.

If she was aware of his vigilant magical surveillance, she didn’t show it. He’d been cautious about it at first, watching nervously as her skin erupted in goosebumps as his magic made contact, but she had simply brushed them off with a casual remark about the building’s air conditioning. Now that he felt confident she was ignorant of his aura’s presence, he’d maintained a constant vigilance of the magic coursing through her body.

Other than the occasional, small, accidental injury, she never utilized it. Perhaps she was just being cautious in his presence. If so, it was time to change tactics. He resolved to start observing her more secretively the next day.

The two women trained for three hours in all before Natasha finally released Althea. Natasha threw Loki one last, suspicious look before leaving. Althea lingered, waiting until Natasha was gone before turning to him.

“Well?”

He met her expectant gaze. “Well, what?”

“Learn anything?”, she pressed.  
  
 _No._ “Yes.”

Althea’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really? What?”

There was a touch of hope in question that surprised him. Did she really think he would discover something about her that she did not already know? _It’s just another act_ , he assured himself.

“You are terrible at this,” he snarked.

She sighed. Loki noted the minute slump of her shoulders. “If that’s all you’ve got after stalking me for three days then you’re not very good at this.”

The truth of her statement caused him to bristle, but he kept his face impassive. “Or perhaps you are simply not interesting after all.”

She huffed at that. “What I wouldn’t give for that to be true.”

She drew her arms back, stretching her shoulders. Loki did his best to ignore the way her chest pushed forward as she did so.

“Over a decade with those HYDRA assholes and now I’m not even allowed to leave this building until I can prove to Steve that I can defend myself because they might be waiting to snatch me up again, which at this rate I’ll never be able to do. All because I’m _interesting._ ”

Loki did his best to hide his surprise, not that he thought the rambling woman before him would notice. The fact that Althea wasn’t permitted to leave was news to him. He’d figured there was a more mundane reason behind her time spent indoors, such as disinterest or fear.

The tears she’d shed the other day suddenly made sense.

She shook her head dejectedly before addressing the floor by her feet. “I wish I didn’t have this stupid ability. It’s brought me nothing but pain and misery.” Her voice was quiet but bitter.

Loki fought the urge to comfort her, frustrated that the thought occurred to him at all. Instead, he chose to point out the obvious. “If it weren’t for your ability, you’d be dead along with your parents.”

Her entire countenance changed at the mention of her parents. She stood frozen, every muscle stiff. Even her breathing, ragged from the day’s exertion, seemed to stop entirely. Her eyes, still locked on the ground, grew distant and unfocused, shining with the threat of tears.

He’d unintentionally hit a nerve. Usually, he’d be pleased with himself, happy for ammunition he could make use of later, but to his chagrin, he found her reaction made him feel regret rather than satisfaction. He felt for her magic, looking for any sign she was the source of this unexpected remorse, but there was no observable change.

He tried to decide whether he should apologize or change the subject, but she spoke up first.

“You’re right.” She inhaled deeply, the action loosening her tight stance. “You know, maybe it sounds conceited, but sometimes I think there’s a reason I survived that crash. A reason I have this ability. I thought it gave me purpose, back when it seemed like I was actually helping the people they made me heal. Now I have a chance to really do something, to do good, and here I am: complaining about it.” She let out a mirthless chuckle. “God, how selfish is that?”

It was the most selfless thing Loki had ever heard.

She looked up to meet his gaze. Her hazel eyes, almost golden in the bright fluorescent light of the training room, were bright, the mistiness of unshed tears giving way to fiery determination. “I needed to hear that. Thank you, Loki.” She offered him a small smile and turned to leave.

For the first time in days, Loki did not follow her.

—————————————————————

When Althea awoke the next morning, she was surprised by just how… normal she felt. She’d expected to feel the side effects of the previous day’s intense workout, but her muscles felt fine. Apparently her ability prevented her muscles from staying sore for very long, leaving her feeling nothing short of invigorated. A fresh wave of shame washed over her as she remembered how she had, just yesterday, complained about her power to Loki.

Loki. Once again she pondered his strange behavior over the past few days. Despite his near-constant presence, she found herself missing him, or at least the version of him she’d gotten glimpses of before his sudden change in demeanor. He’d always been cold and distant, but he’d taken it to new heights. She even missed his acerbic wit, even if he did have a tendency to use it against her.

Had she done something to upset him? Their last real conversation had been tense, sure, but she hadn’t pushed him. Besides, he’d brought up the subject himself. Maybe she was missing something. Or maybe she’d simply been naive to think that they’d been approaching something akin to friendship.

She took a deep breath before opening her door, preparing herself for another day of being tailed by the silent, surly god.

For the first time in days, he wasn’t waiting for her outside her door this morning. She looked up and down the hallway, conflicted. Should she wait for him? Perhaps he’d actually deemed her too uninteresting to shadow any longer and given up his constant vigil.

She rubbed her arms, chasing away the goosebumps that seemed to plague her any time she left her room. Tony seemed to have turned up the air conditioning to compensate for the last heatwave of summer. Althea wondered who she had to talk to to get a warmer wardrobe for the rapidly approaching colder months.

It was silly to even consider waiting around for Loki, she decided, and set off towards the elevator. It wasn’t like she’d be hard to find if indeed he did intend to keep “studying” her.

She had a few hours before she was scheduled to meet Natasha in the training room for her next session. After grabbing a quick breakfast of grapefruit and berries, she headed upstairs to take up her usual post in the lounge. To her surprise, both Tony and Steve were already there, apparently waiting for her.

“There she is!”, Tony exclaimed, hopping up from his seat at the bar, an elaborately garnished Bloody Mary in hand.

Steve followed suit, standing up with less enthusiasm. He did not share Tony’s choice in morning drink, instead cradling a steaming cup of coffee.

“How are you feeling, Althea? I heard Nat really put you through the paces yesterday.” Steve’s expression was one of friendly concern.

“Actually, I feel surprisingly fine,” she told him, stretching both of her arms across her chest in turn for emphasis.

Tony didn’t seem shocked. “Of course you do. Minute tears in the muscle fiber and irritation caused by the build-up of lactic acid are what cause muscle soreness in regular folks. But that’s all small potatoes for you, kid,” he rattled off knowledgeably.

“Well, I’m just glad it’s going well so far. Keep up the good work and you’ll be out of here in no time,” Steve offered her an encouraging smile.

Althea was about to return the gesture when a noise behind her made her spin on her heels. She looked around for the source, but there was nothing there. Strange, it’d almost sounded like…

“Everything okay?”

She turned back to see both men looking at her quizzically.

Althea shook her head, chasing away the thought. Her mind must be playing tricks on her.

“Yeah, sorry, I just,” she cast another quick glance at the empty room behind her. “I thought I heard something.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

It was pointless. Whether Althea knew he was there or not, it made no difference. If there was something to be learned about her magic, he wouldn’t discover it through passive observation.

It was frustrating, not having any answers, but not nearly as frustrating as the realization that he may, in fact, have been wrong about her. True, she had a disconcerting ability to draw him out of his shell, but he was beginning to doubt it had anything to do with her magic. His hubris had made such a mundane explanation feel impossible, but it was becoming impossible to deny. It wasn’t the workings of some undetectable, powerful magic. It was just her.

He’d be better off avoiding her entirely.

The problem was, he just couldn’t seem to stay away.

He wanted to be around her, wanted to talk to her, even though doing so meant he was likely to slip up and reveal more than he meant to. It’d been difficult, not acknowledging her over the past few days. He hadn’t really succeeded either, in the end. It’d been even harder following her in silence. Again, he hadn’t been very successful, unable to hold in a sigh of displeasure as he listened to the condescending way Captain America and the Iron Man spoke of Althea’s training.

Did they not realize how much the promise of leaving this building meant to her? Steve spoke of freedom like one who’d never been denied it. It wasn’t right to hinge something so important on such an impossible task. She could not possibly be expected to perform up to their standards in combat.

The opportunity to undermine his self-righteous jailers was just too enticing to ignore, and Loki knew just how to do just that. The fact that it meant more time with Althea was merely an added benefit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I hope you all like slow burns. I'm going to assume you do if you're still reading this. 
> 
> Can anyone guess what Loki's got up his sleeve? I already have the next chapter all but finished, so I think I'll end up posting it a little ahead of schedule. 
> 
> Thanks as always for all the support, kudos, and comments!


	12. A Trip to the Park

“ **OUT OF SERVICE** ”

Althea sighed heavily at the sign posted on the elevator doors. There were many upsides to living in one of the tallest buildings in New York City: great views, ample living space, even bragging rights, not that she had anyone to brag to. Facing the exhausting trek upstairs, however, she would trade it all for a small, one-story shack in the middle of nowhere.

Althea had been training with Natasha for a week straight with no marked improvement. She was perhaps a little less out of breath after running laps, but she still couldn’t land a hit or avoid even the most obvious attacks Nat threw her way. It was maddening. Althea had started to wish she did get sore, just so she had an excuse to take a break from the hopeless exercise.

Now that her instructor and the rest of the team were out following up on the lead in South America, she finally had a day off. Yet she still couldn’t seem to escape strenuous physical activity.

There was nothing for it. Unless she wanted to spend the day sulking around her room, she’d have to attack the stairs sooner or later. Resigned, she located the seldom-used door at the end of the hall and prepared for the long climb.

It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind her that she realized how out of place the handwritten sign was in Stark’s technology-drenched building. It wasn’t just odd, it was suspicious.

“JARVIS, why is the elevator down?”, she called out, but there was no reply. At least, not from the AI.

“You won’t get an answer,” came a familiar voice behind her.

Althea spun around and found herself face to face with Loki. He stood with his hands clasped casually behind his back, a mischievous smirk pulling at the corners of his thin lips. He was dressed in his signature all-black suit almost melting into the shadows of the dimly lit space.

“Stark didn’t bother installing his little virtual assistant in here,” he continued, casting his eyes around the barebones, cement passageway. “We’re all alone.”

Althea’s ears grew hot as she took in his suggestive smile.

She hadn’t seen Loki much since their conversation in the training room, though they had crossed paths a few times in the past few days. It seemed he had, indeed, decided to stop his relentless shadowing of her every move. Their relationship, whatever it was, had almost returned to normal. "Normal", of course, being a very generous term. 

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” She leveled him with a suspicious look.

“Perhaps. Why? Is it working?”

“You don’t scare me, Loki.” No, _intimidation_ wasn’t the word for how she felt now, standing in such close proximity to him.

His eyes narrowed slightly at her response. Clearly he didn’t quite believe her. That was fine. He didn’t need to know the real reason behind her pounding heart and flushed face. 

Changing the subject, she voiced her suspicions. “Why did you put up that sign on the elevator.”

Loki shrugged. “Seemed like the easiest way to get you in here,”

“And why am I here, exactly?” She knew Loki was being purposefully vague, either trying to rile her up or keep her in suspense. His avoidance of the question only confirmed her thoughts.

“Do you trust me?”

  
That earned an amused huff. “No,” she answered, only half-joking.

“Good answer.” A wide grin took over his features, teeth gleaming wolfishly. “This won’t be pleasant.” With that lackluster warning, he reached out, grasped her shoulder, and sent the world spinning.

Althea blinked. She was no longer in the empty stairwell. Instead, she found herself outside, standing on freshly cut grass, surrounded by trees.

Suddenly, vertigo hit her like a truck. She reeled, her head spinning as her stomach churned. Loki adjusted his hold to steady her, wrapping one arm lightly around her waist as the other braced her shoulder. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing as she fought off the wave of nausea. After a few deep breaths, she looked at Loki. He still held her, watching her with concerned eyes, a surprising gentleness to both his touch and his features.

As she met his gaze, his brow relaxed. She caught a glimpse of his relieved grin before he hurriedly replaced it with his usual blank mask. He took an awkward step back and released his hold on her. It wasn’t until he’d withdrawn his hands that Althea realized it had been the first time Loki had touched her.

“I warned you it would be less than pleasant,” he joked, distracting her from the oddly intimate moment.

“A bug bite is unpleasant, Loki. A paper-cut, _Loki_ , is unpleasant. That… that was…” she looked around, finally taking in her surroundings. She was outside, and not hundreds of feet in the air this time. She reached out a tentatively stroked the leaf of a nearby bush. “Where are we?”

“Central Park. I thought, since you spend so much time looking out windows, you might enjoy some time outdoors,” he said. He held her gaze for a moment, searching her face before he broke eye contact and ducked his head. 

“I thought you couldn’t leave the tower. I thought you weren’t allowed,” she looked at him, puzzled.

Loki looked up with an impish smile. “I’m not allowed.”

Althea narrowed her eyes at him. She knew enough about him now to read between the lines. “But you _can._ ”

“Of course,” he said plainly with a nonchalant shrug. “As I told you before: I have tricks of my own. I can leave anytime I wish. Mortals’ understanding of magic is… rudimentary at best. Certainly not enough to truly contain me. Not for very long, at any rate.” He looked down at her, playful arrogance dancing across his features.

“Surely Thor knows you can just,” she waved her hands around in the air dramatically as tried to think of how to phrase what had just happened. “Magic yourself out whenever you want," she settled on. "He knows what you can do, right?”  


“True, my brother has some knowledge of what I'm capable of,” he conceded. “But critical thinking has never been my brother’s strong suit. Thor is very well equipped to handle problems as they arise or when they are presented to him plainly. Thinking ahead, not so much. So long as it looks like I’m locked up and brow-beaten, he won’t imagine the possibility that I’m free to come and go as I wish.”

“Why tell… why show me?” she wondered aloud. If the others found out about Loki’s covert trips outside the tower, they would surely put an end to them, by any means necessary. It didn’t seem like Loki to trust someone with such a secret.

“Because,” he leveled her with an appraising look, his expression serious, “I think you’ve suffered more than your fair share of confinement. And watching you mope around, staring out of windows was getting tiring.” He paused and looked her up and down, scrutinizing her. His eyes paused for a fraction of a second on her hands, then her lips. Suddenly he turned around and began striding away. “Besides, call it mutually assured destruction. Remember, you’re not allowed out either, pet.”

Loki had gone a few yards before Althea hurried to catch up with him, falling into step beside him. “Don’t call me that,” she huffed.

“Why not? It’s apt.”

“It’s demeaning. It makes me sound… lesser than,” she argued.

“You forget I am a god. You _are_ lesser,” Loki countered.

“A god who has to sneak out just to go for a walk,” she said, smiling when he merely scoffed in response, failing to come back with a witty retort.

They walked along the path side by side in silence. Althea would pause every so often, captivated by the display of nature around them. At first, Loki would stop reluctantly, and impatient frown pulling at his lips as he waited for her to catch up, but soon he found himself following her gaze, trying to join her appreciation of whatever tree or bird or pool of water she had stopped to admire.

When they reached the far end of the park, Althea found a bench overlooking a small pond and sat down, motioning for Loki to join her. He did so stiffly, unbuttoning his black suit jacket as he sat. He studied her face, which held a mixture of peacefulness and wonderment, before turning his attention to the water as well. Trees grew right up to the edge of the pond, lush and green in the summer sun. Leaves fluttered in the gentle breeze while their lower branches skimmed and dipped under the surface of the water. Loki couldn’t see what was so interesting.

“Does this simple space really captivate you so?”

“It’s only simple to you,” she said with a small smile. “I’m sure you’ve been places that were way more picturesque or impressive, places that put a little pond and some trees to shame, places I can’t even imagine. I spent over half my life in a place with no windows; no ponds or trees, not even a houseplant. Comparatively speaking, this is the most beautiful place in the world.”

Loki reassessed the view, pondering her statement. He sometimes forgot the tortuous life she had led before she came to live with the Avengers. She was so often joyful and warm, not the sullen shell one would expect of someone who had endured so much. And he had to admit, it was pretty: the way the trailing branches wove rippling patterns through the languid water, the whisper of the wind as it washed over the grass and vegetation. It almost reminded him of his days spent reading in the conservatories back home.

“You’re right,” he said. “This place pales in comparison to Asgard.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice urged him to leave it at that. Despite it, he continued, familiar visions filling his mind’s eye. “It would take your breath away: the palace gardens, the golden city, the Rainbow Bridge, all surrounded by a glittering sea that falls off into the endless cosmos.”

Althea turned to face him, struck by his wistful tone. His eyes were far away as he envisioned his former home, the corners of his lips turned up in a slight smile as if he were recalling a pleasant memory. “It sounds amazing. Do you miss it?”, she asked.

Loki blinked and, with practiced swiftness, rid his face of emotion. “No, I much prefer stagnant little ponds in the middle of a stinking city peopled by imbeciles,” he snapped sarcastically. He stood abruptly, refastening his jacket. “We should go. I don’t care to lose my limited freedom because you chose to dawdle looking at twigs and ducks.”

Althea rose sheepishly to stand beside him. She hadn’t meant to upset him. Before she could apologize, however, Loki planted a hand on her shoulder and the park fell away, replaced once more by bare concrete steps. Without a word Loki turned and exited the stairwell, slamming the heavy metal door behind him.

Shaking, Althea sat on the steps, afraid she might fall down the stairs otherwise, as a wave of vertigo and nausea overtook her for the second time that day. Once it passed, she picked herself up, carefully maintaining her balance, and made her way to her room. She flopped down on the bed, as exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster of the afternoon as by the aftereffects of teleporting twice.

She had seen a rare side of Loki in the park, a side that could be patient and compassionate, even tender. If only he could maintain that side. She was beginning to see a pattern emerging, a causality behind his sudden changes in mood.

Thor was right, she decided, there was a good heart under all the sarcasm and angry outbursts. She just wasn’t sure if the trickster god was ready to let anyone see it.

As her thoughts lingered on Loki, a foreign feeling rose in her chest, constricting the muscles there. She squinted at the ceiling, trying to place it. _Anger? Frustration?_ Her limbs buzzed with the unnamed emotion. Whatever it was, it demanded action. Her mind made up, she allowed sleep to finally overtake her.

The next morning she awoke single-minded with purpose. Confrontation had never been Althea’s strong suit. Even before the accident, she had been conciliatory to a fault. Her time locked away at the mercy of armed guards and stern authorities had done nothing to change that aspect of her personality. But she was to be an Avenger, she reminded herself. She was going to have to train her temperament for conflict, the same way she had to train her body. Confronting her fellow shut-in about his mood swings seemed like as good a place to start as anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You had to know Loki wasn't going to take being locked up lying down. The man fooled Heimdal, he can definitely pull one over on Thor and the gang. And just when it seems like he is going to start opening up... What can I say, I've got a thing for emotionally unavailable men. The angst fuels me. 
> 
> I know I teased releasing this early but "life uhhhhh finds a way" to throw off even the best-laid plans. My creative drive has kind of taken a dive this past week. I hope this chapter didn't suffer too much because of it. 
> 
> ALSO! Shout out to @octobot who called out Althea getting winded on stairs in their comment on the last chapter. It took everything for me not to tell you how on the money you were!


	13. A Whole Garden

If the current state of her nerves was any indication, Althea was in trouble.

She hadn’t even left her room yet, and already a thin sheen of sweat coated her brow. She swiped at it with the back of her hand, rehearsing what she planned to say for the umpteenth time. Her morning was already gone, spent pacing her room nervously as she considered how to breach the subject. If she didn’t act soon, the whole day would pass her by.

She should not be this nervous. It was just a conversation after all, not a battle. She was supposed to be training to be a superhero for goodness sake. How was she ever going to accomplish that if simply talking to someone sent her spiraling?

Rhythmically she clenched and unclenched her hands, trying to dispel some of the nervous energy. The action only called attention to her slick palms. She wiped them on the legs of her pants. Hopefully she would find him quickly before her small reserve of determination disappeared. With a long, steady breath she steeled herself and finally put a hand on the doorknob in front of her.

_You can do this,_ she assured herself unconvincingly and flung open the door.

And found herself face to face with Loki.

She’d anticipated having to track him down and had even mentally prepared a list of places to look, planning on checking them in order of probability. Immediately outside her door had not been on that list.

His expression mirrored her own surprise, his fist still suspended in the air where it had been poised to knock on her door. They looked at each other, unblinking, for a moment before his expression quickly flipped to his usual disinterested mask. He lowered his hand, bringing it behind his back to join its partner. The stance only amplified his mischievous aura, his unseen hands hiding his intentions as effectively as his passive expression.

Caught entirely off guard, her rehearsed speech vanished, she struggled to think of something to say. He clocked her speechlessness and broke the tension.

“How are you feeling?”

Althea visibly reacted to the question, recoiling slightly in shock as her brows knit together in confusion. Nothing about this interaction was close to what she’d prepared for. “What?” 

“I was…” his eyes narrowed slightly as he searched for the right word, “concerned that perhaps yesterday’s travel had affected you negatively.” His eyes searched Althea’s face, looking for any indication that confirmed his worries.

The mention of the previous day’s outing snapped Althea back to her senses, reigniting the irritation in her chest. “You might have shown some of that _concern_ yesterday,” she spat.

Her voice came out harsher than she’d intended, even in her agitated state, but Loki was unaffected, merely raising an eyebrow in acknowledgment. “Yes, I suppose that would have been more appropriate timing.”

His lack of reaction flustered her and spurred her further. “I don’t understand you. I don’t understand what you want from me. First you’re friendly, then you’re angry and standoffish. One day you’re following me everywhere I go, then I don’t see you for days on end.” Her rehearsed bullet points were coming back to her, tumbling out with less control than she’d planned. “One minute you’re telling me about yourself, the next you’re leaving me sick in a stairwell. It’s exhausting. Make up your mind.”

He cocked his head slightly, taking in her flushed face and trembling hands. His cocked eyebrow climbed higher as his lips curled up in amusement. “You should get angry more often. It’s adorable.”

Althea huffed in disbelief, heat rising and coloring her cheeks. She shouldn’t be surprised that he wasn’t taking her seriously, but it was infuriating nonetheless. He was treating her like a child throwing a tantrum, finding humor in the storm of emotions she was unpracticed in expressing. “Forget it,” she snapped, frustrated tears pricking at her eyes. “I don’t know why I bothered. Just leave me alone.”She pushed past him and started stalking down the hall, unsure of where she was going but knowing she wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

She was halfway to the elevator before she heard his voice, unusually soft, sound behind her.

“I am… new to companionship.”

His tone stopped her dead in her tracks. For a moment, she considered ignoring him and pressing on, but curiosity won over her anger. She turned back slowly to face him. He stood frozen at a slight angle from when she’d shoved him, his hands still behind his back, face serious.

He spoke haltingly, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not well versed at it.”

“No shit,” she said, still clinging to her lingering irritation at him. Her anger began to dissipate as she took in the vulnerability he was fighting to hide. His eyebrows twitched with the effort to mask the emotion as he gazed at his own distorted reflection in his flawlessly polished shoes.

“I came to apologize,” he explained, sighing heavily. He took a hesitant step in her direction, “but it appears I’m not very good at that either.”

His sudden sincerity was disarming. Althea found herself wanting to break the tension. She decided to take refuge from the heavy conversation in sarcasm. “Let me guess, you don’t have a lot of practice saying sorry?”

It took him a moment to realize she was joking. “No,” he laughed quietly.

She started to close the distance between them, her irritation rapidly fading, replaced by curiosity that danced in the playful energy between them. “Is that what this is? An apology?”

Loki sighed, looking down and shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “I suppose so, yes.”

She stopped in front of him. “Well,” she prompted. “Go ahead then.”

He looked up, his eyes quirking questioningly.

“I’m going to make you say it.” She tried her best to level him with a serious glare, but the situation had lost most of its weight.

For a moment it looked as though Loki would argue, but he relented. “I’m sorry.” The phrase was clipped as it eked through his clenched teeth as if it pained him to utter the words at all.

Althea wasn’t impressed by his lackluster response. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Loki shot her a narrowed glare, but she stood steadfast, resolute. Levity had replaced anger, but she still wanted answers. He sighed, defeated, and considered his next words carefully. “I’m sorry for my behavior. I was…” He paused, looking off into the middle distance beside her as he considered his next words. “I was upset at myself, and took out my frustration on you.”

The explanation only raised more questions in her mind. “Why were you upset at yourself?” A deep, drawn-out inhale through his nostrils signaled Loki was reluctant to expand on the statement. She waited for him to answer, but when it was clear he would not volunteer more, she chose to venture a guess. “You don’t like to talk about yourself. Not really, anyway.”

Loki’s jaw clenched, acknowledging she’d hit upon the truth. She waited with bated breath, half expecting him to lose his composure once more and stalk away, but he stood his ground.

“No,” he replied after a moment. It wasn’t a denial.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, you know that. I won’t force you to talk about anything you don’t want to talk about.” She tried to convey as much patience and understanding as she could; an attempt to make up for yelling at him earlier. It was clear this was a difficult conversation for him. His usual sarcastic arrogance was gone, replaced by a foreign earnestness that made them both uncomfortable.

“That’s the problem,” he muttered. Althea watched his jaw work as he ground his teeth, frustration radiating off him in waves. “You don’t have to. There’s… something about you. Whenever I’m around you, I end up revealing more than I intend.”

They considered each other carefully. Loki’s confession, as reserved as it was, changing the energy between them. Althea’s pulse raced as she took in the new atmosphere, conscious of how little space remained between them. Had she closed the distance, or had he?

“And that makes you angry?”, she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

“At myself,” he assured her. “I’m used to being in control. Feeling otherwise is… disconcerting.” His lids narrowed in thought. “I thought it had something to do with your magic, but now I’m not so certain.”

That caught Althea off guard, dispelling the odd tension that had been growing between them. She took a step back to better see him. “My magic? What are you talking about?”

——————————————————————————————————————————

They sat together on the roof, drinking in the rapidly cooling air as night descended over the city. Loki observed the lights of the cars as they traversed the streets below, watching the rhythmic pattern, caring about neither their occupants nor their destinations. It was hardly interesting, but it was a distraction; something to keep him from leering at her face as she worked through the information he’d imparted on her. He could feel the anxiety rippling through Althea as she struggled to come to terms with what he’d told her.

A sharp intake of breath beside him alerted him that she was about to speak, and he tore his attention from the passing vehicles. “How did you figure it out?” She turned to face him, her expression questioning. “I mean, HYDRA spent years conducting every test under the sun on me, but they never said anything about ‘magic’.”

“I’m not surprised. Like I said yesterday, human’s understanding of magic is extremely limited. It’s not something that can be detected or quantified by your science. Not by most, at least. But where I come from, science and magic are intertwined. Two sides of the same coin. It’s more common. I simply knew what to look for.”

Her face was surprisingly calm as she absorbed his explanation. He watched her eyes dance back and forth as she shifted through his words, noticing how their color had shifted to a darker mix of golds and tawny browns in the fading light. She blinked rapidly, as though a thought had suddenly occurred to her. “But you said we, mortals, aren’t born with abilities. Does that mean someone did this to me?” The hurt in her voice was evident; another decision made for her, without her consent. Loki could empathize.

Loki sighed, weighing out the possibilities. He’d given the question a lot of thought before she voiced it, having wondered himself how she could have come to possess her latent power without being aware of it. “Possibly, though I can’t imagine how one would accomplish such a thing.”

“What other explanation is there?” She looked at him, eyebrows knitted together, eyes pleading. She wanted answers; answers Loki did not yet have for her. For some reason it made him feel guilty.

“I don’t know. Your magic is unlike any I’ve come across. I’ve never encountered one who does not have to consciously call upon their magic to use it.”

He watched her face crumple, her hope for a solution to the riddle dashed. She turned away from him to look back out over the skyline. “If _you_ can’t figure it out, I doubt I ever will.” Defeat colored every word. Loki’s hand lifted to reach out to her, but he fought the urge and lowered it back to his lap. He looked at the offending appendage, wondering what had driven it towards her. He’d never been particularly inclined to provide comfort to anyone. Why would he suddenly start now?

“I guess it’s something though,” she sighed, breaking his train of thought. They turned to look at one another again. “It’s more than I knew yesterday at least.” She smiled weakly at him, the gesture not reaching her eyes. Loki felt an unfamiliar pang in his heart at the sight.

Althea chuckled softly, leaning back on her arms to look up at the sky, her eyes tracking a solitary cloud as is moved lazily across the orange-hued sky. “Man, this was not how I expected this day to go. And to think, I spent all morning rehearsing telling you off.”

He couldn’t help but smirk. “You rehearsed that?” He thought back to her stumbling speech in the hallway, rushed and sloppy, her face red and hands shaking. His teasing had been rooted in truth, it was cute.

Her face flushed in embarrassment. “Yeah… I’ve never been good at being angry. I try to avoid confrontation.” She peered over at him, letting her face rest on her shoulder. “But you’ve been such an ass, I had to make an exception.” She grinned playfully at him, this time her eyes reflecting the gesture. Once again she’d lightened the mood. Where Loki would have withdrawn, humiliated and angry, she seemed to take everything in stride. “You still haven’t really apologized,” she teased.

Loki rolled his eyes at her self-satisfied expression, but he suddenly remembered what had brought him to Althea’s door in the first place. “Maybe this will suffice.”

He reached out slightly and waved his hands in a circular motion, calling the familiar green light of his magic forth between his palms. He was acutely aware of Althea watching him in fascination as he summoned the object, his fingers catching it deftly by the base. He looked at the leafy plant for a moment, suddenly embarrassed by the silly gift, before handing it off to her. She sat up straight and took it from him gently, her fingers brushing against his own as she grasped the simple terra-cotta pot.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at her as she looked at the potted plant, turning it slowly to take it in at every angle. From the corner of his eye, he watched her take a leaf in between two fingers, gingerly rubbing the waxy surface. Her silence was oppressive, her reaction unreadable. He wasn’t practiced in giving gifts. Perhaps he had missed the mark. Uncomfortable, he tried to explain. “It’s a houseplant. You… mentioned not having one yesterday.”

He felt her gaze as she tore it away from the foliage to look at him, still not saying anything. He turned cautiously, relief washing over him as he took in her smile.

“This is surprisingly thoughtful, Loki,” she said. He huffed indignantly and the backhanded compliment, turning his attention away from her once more. “You’re forgiven,” she said. Before he could turn back her arms were around him, the unexpected hug causing him to stiffen in surprise, his eyes wide. She withdrew almost immediately, her cheeks flushed. She looked back at the plant and cleared her throat. “Just don’t think you can keep being a jerk and buying me off with presents.”

As she turned her back to him to delicately place the plant beside her, Loki allowed himself a secret smile, his heart still noticeably pounding in his chest. _If that was her reaction to a small bunch of leaves, he’d happily give her a whole garden._ He blinked, unsure of where the thought had come from, but unable to deny it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holidays, work, other projects, depression... they all conspired against me this week. 
> 
> I've been a little disappointed with the length of these chapters. I feel like they should be longer, maybe combined together? Then again, maybe I'm just feeling self-conscious after reading mortis_oculo's incredible Kylo fic "For the Damaged" with all its 8,000-word chapters. Any opinions?
> 
> As always, thank you for all the support and interest in my little story. If you want to talk more, feel free to hit up the tumblr I made specifically for my fic writing: https://alienspawnwrites.tumblr.com   
> I also post some artwork related to the story from time to time.


	14. Training Resumes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki does not teach through positive reinforcement.

They’d sat in companionable silence for a while before Althea excused herself, cradling the plant in her hands like so much precious gold. Loki smiled slightly behind her, proud of the effect of his gesture. She was easily won over, something he’d be happy to take advantage of in the future.

Once she’d departed, Loki was left alone with his thoughts. The light of the late evening was fading quickly, a reflection of his own darkening mood.

He was acting like a fool. Bending to the whims of a mortal, degrading himself in order to placate her. _Why?_ He hadn’t intended to apologize so blatantly. Her anger had been surprising, but not entirely unexpected. Just about everyone quickly tired of him, and after centuries it no longer affected him. He knew the security of detachment, the protection provided by closing himself off and resisting the weak-willed inclination towards companionship. It was a tough lesson learned over so many lonesome, secluded years.

But he’d forgotten it all at the sight of the tears in her eyes, at her walking away from him. In that moment he would have said anything to alleviate the pain he’d caused her, and he had. She’d manipulated him once again. Even if it wasn’t purposeful, it was unacceptable. If anything, the fact that she held such a power over him unwittingly only made it all the more frustrating. 

He was growing attached. The admission stung. He was no better than his idiot brother, fawning over his little human pet. There was no happy ending for Thor at the end of that road, nor Loki if he continued following the same path.

It could go no further. He’d already made too many allowances, he could not afford her to weaken him anymore. It’d best to avoid her entirely, but they’d come too far for that now. Even if they hadn’t, Loki knew he would not be able to stay away. He would have to find a balance between the two, between losing himself and losing her. It was like a tightrope walk, he knew, but Loki was no stranger to walking the fine line.

With resolution came peace, and he allowed the night to envelop him.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Althea worried at her lip, absorbing Tony’s message. It’d been vague at best, and JARVIS’s perpetually even tone hadn’t provided any more information. A brief mention of issues with the Quinjet, a curious hint that Dr. Banner had been the cause, all to say that their return would be delayed. JARVIS, and by extension Tony, had assured her that everyone was fine, but worry enveloped her regardless. She’d grown used to some or all of the team heading out for a few days at a time, but it’d been almost a week.

“Is the thought of spending a few more days alone with me really so upsetting?”Loki’s eyed her now swollen lower lip, the thin skin raw and red from her nervous working.

“They’ve just gone a long time. I’m just worried about them, that’s all,” she countered.

“A sweet sentiment, but entirely unnecessary, I’m sure.”

They sat across from each other on either side of the small table in the kitchen, Althea’s forgotten breakfast rapidly cooling on the tabletop between them. She hadn’t bothered to change out of the sweats she’d woken up in, her scruffy appearance highlighted by Loki’s usual flawless suiting. He appeared completely nonplussed by the update, regarding her coolly as he sipped his cup of tea.

Something between them had changed last night, Althea was sure of it, though neither of them made any move to acknowledge it. Truthfully she was uncomfortable with the idea of spending even longer alone with Loki, though not for the same reasons she might have listed even yesterday. She’d gotten her apology, her anger had been sated, but the curious tightness in her chest remained. It only intensified under his piercing gaze and she found herself fidgeting, her lip darting back between her teeth.

After a beat, he drained his cup and stood, gesturing for her to do the same. “Follow me,” he said flatly and made to leave the room.

The order set Althea scrambling, tossing her plate hurriedly into the sink as she rushed to keep up with him. She frowned slightly at her own eagerness to obey.

“Where are we going?”, she asked, shuffling into step beside him. She cast a worried look down at herself. She wasn’t dressed for another trip outside. Maybe Loki would let her stop at her room first for a change of clothes.

“We’re going to the training room.” Arriving at the elevator doors, he pressed the call button, sparing her a sideways glance as she sputtered beside him.

“What?”, she finally managed.

“You need a distraction. And I’m bored,” he explained flatly, as if the idea of the two of them facing off was not a ridiculous notion. “Besides, you’ve been neglecting your training in Natasha’s absence. You’re not going to improve if you keep slacking off.”

The truth of his statement silenced her protests. He was right. She scolded herself for being so lazy. Everyone else was gone doing important work and she’d been doing nothing with herself. She hung her head in shame as she stepped into the elevator behind him.

Loki strode confidently into the training room, a familiar green shimmer washing over him as he stepped through the threshold. His suit was gone, replaced by the striking green and black leather armor he’d worn for his bout with Thor. She examined it in the harsh lighting of the room. Like everything she’d seen him wear, it was impeccably tailored to his lithe frame; tight, but not restrictive. Every piece was intricate in design with complex stitching and small gold detailing adding infrequent breaks to the swaths of dark material. His cape swished behind him, adding drama to every movement. On anyone else, the outfit would have looked utterly preposterous. On Loki, it looked completely natural. Althea allowed herself to wonder what he would look like in basic sweats like her own, fighting the urge to chuckle at the mental image.

The stopped in the middle of the room. Here in the open, with the intimidatingly dressed god before her, Althea’s nerves started to catch up with her, outweighing her guilt. A shudder ran through her as she recalled watching Thor spar shortly after arriving at the tower. She’d never seen Loki fight, but if he could give his brother a run for his money, she was entirely out of her depth.

“Nat usually starts me off with a few laps,” she offered, trying to put off the inevitable for as long as possible.

“I thought we’d try something a little more interesting,” he countered. Another ripple of verdant light and he produced two long staves. He held one out to her. She eyed it apprehensively before reaching out and taking it.

“You didn’t have to drag me down here if you just wanted to kick my ass,” she joked nervously, eyeing the basic weaponry.

Loki laughed, clocking her anxiety. “I’m not going to fight you. That would hardly be fair. No, I want you to attack me, show me what you’re capable of. I won’t do anything offensive, I promise.”

She eyed the stave dubiously, turning it over and giving it a small, testing swing. It was heavier than it looked, it’s length unwieldy and awkward in her inexperienced hands. “I’ve never used a weapon before. Nat and I are still working on hand-to-hand combat.”

He grasped her hands delicately, rearranging her grip so the pole was better balanced. She tried to focus on the placement, pushing aside the way her head swam as his cool fingers grazed her own.

“It’s simple, once you understand the basic principles,” he told her, stepping away quickly and observing her stance. “Let’s start with your footing.”

Loki walked her through how to properly wield the stave, showing her simple strikes and movements. Althea found herself liking the long weapon, feeling powerful and she swung it through the air. He corrected her form patiently, only moving on to another move when she could execute the previous one confidently.

After about an hour he’d taught her a handful of strikes and blocks and decided to move on to practicing them on a target. She looked around, prepared to move over to the line of punching bags along the wall, but Loki stopped her.

“Try the first combination on me.”

Her eyes flitted between the weapon in her hands and Loki and swallowed nervously. Rationally she knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t hurt him. She was weak and inexperienced and he was Asgardian, a god. Still, the thought of striking at him made her pause. “I don’t want to hit you, Loki. There’s equipment for this sort of thing, can’t we just use that?”, she pleaded.

“You’re not going to be set upon by punching bags or rubber dummies,” he reasoned. “You need to practice with something more realistic. Now come on, you’re wasting time.”

She could hardly argue with his logic. She planted her feet just as he’d shown her a took a steadying breath. She moved through the actions slowly, methodically. Forward strike, up, down, right, left. He stood unmoving, allowing the stave to bounce off of him harmlessly with each movement. She finished, holding the last stance, waiting for his reaction.

“Really?” He looked at her, disappointed. “Slow. Sloppy. Again, faster this time.”

She did just as he instructed, allowing the momentum of each swing to carry her into the next beat. She tried to focus on her hands, trusting the pole to hit it’s target as she snapped them into each position, letting out a quick exhale each time she swung. Just as before he stood unaffected by the assault.

“Adequate, but you’re putting too much thought into your strikes. Technique is worthless if there’s no power behind it.”

Althea lunged again. Again, Loki remained still, allowing her blows to land.

“I told you to put power behind it. Why are you still holding back? A child could block those strikes.”

She huffed, leaning against the stave. “I don’t know what you expect from me, Loki.”

“I expect you to try harder. You’ve been used, beaten and broken, stolen and locked away. You’re still being held in a cage. Where is your anger? Where is your _fight_?”

She looked at him, gobsmacked. She was angry, wasn’t she? The emotion was still foreign to her, hard to imagine. Irritation, frustration; those feelings were at least familiar to her, though still difficult to express. He was asking for something more, telling her to dig deep inside and let out the rage he seemed to believe she was holding back. She didn’t know if it even existed, let alone how to access it. “I’m doing everything I can,” she said defeatedly.

He eyed her curiously, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe that.”

Her teeth gritted together painfully. What more could she do? She was new to fighting, new to conflict in general. How could he expect more from her? She struck out at him, trying to hit him as hard as possible. With each strike her hands snapped painfully against her side, leaving bruises that vanished as quickly as they appeared, the practiced breaths he’d taught her dissolving into ragged, rushed pants. He swatted her stave away each time with a single hand, looking bored.

“Is that really everything you have? You mortals are truly pathetic. A planet of insignificant pests, staving off annihilation with mutations and crude toys.”

She was panting from the effort, tired arms hanging limp. “I know what you’re trying to do Loki.”

“Do you know how intolerable it is, wasting away day in and day out in your miserable presence; having no choice but to degrade myself with your company. Stooping so low as to apologize, just to placate you? Do you really think we’re friends? Do you imagine I would debase myself enough to feel anything more than reluctant tolerance for you?”

“Loki, stop. Please,” Althea quietly pleaded. He was trying to get a rise out of her, trying to get under her skin and unleash her rage. She knew it was an act, but tears began to gather despite her best efforts. She didn’t want him to see how the undercurrent of truth behind his words wounded her, dashing a hope she hadn’t realized she’d been harboring.

He continued, relentless. “I am a god. I am a prince of Asgard, born to rule over the likes of you and the rest of this miserable, forsaken planet. You’re nothing. Another insignificant mutation masquerading as something more than you could ever hope to be. Trying to play hero… and failing. And why? Because you managed followed them here like a stray dog?”

Althea was shaking, her eyes screwed shut as if blocking him from view would deafen his verbal attack. Her fists were clenched so tightly the knuckles were white as she fought the urge to give in to his provocation, the stave lying abandoned at her feet.

“Those fools should have left you in that lab, let them cut you open until someone figured out a use for you.”

It was too much. The last fragile thread holding Althea’s composure together snapped.

“STOP IT!” Her scream released something deep within her, a force bursting forth from deep within her chest. It exploded outward, ripping through her like a shock wave. She staggered in its wake, suddenly exhausted. Panting, she pried open her eyes.

Loki still stood before her intact, finally silent. His posture was rigid, bewilderment written across his face mixed with something else. Althea recognized it as pain. His hand rose to his neck in a testing touch.

“Loki?” His name came out as a breathless whisper.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, dark red blood fell spilled from his lips. He took a step towards her but faltered, falling to his knees.

“Loki!” Althea rushed towards him. “No, no, no. What have I done?”, she cried, falling to her knees beside him. Her hands hovered around him shakily as she looked him up and down, looking for any sign of injury and finding none. Loki’s eyes were wide as panic replaced his confusion. With dismay, Althea realized he couldn’t breathe. Her hand flew to his throat, joining his own where it now clawed at his skin.

Time slowed as Althea met Loki’s gaze. Nothing was happening. “Please,” she begged as fresh tears began to well in her eyes. His skin was beginning to turn a sickly purple, his eyes bloodshot as he struggled against the lack of air. The seconds stretched on for an eternity as she watched him struggle, begging whatever power or magic resided inside her to heal him. She’d never had to consciously call forth her ability, it had always just happened on its own. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” She closed her eyes and allowed the tears to fall freely.

Loki’s raged gasp was the most beautiful sound Althea had ever heard. She opened her eyes and watched his chest rise and fall as he gulped in much-needed air.

Althea managed a sigh of relief before the pain overtook her.

It was excruciating. Mirroring Loki, he grabbed at her throat, desperate for relief. Reflexively, she tried to cry out but only succeeded in sputtering a mouthful of blood. Her windpipe was crushed, preventing any air from reaching her burning lungs. After a few agonizing moments, she felt her healing begin to take effect, the cartilage slowly returning to its former shape until she was able to suck in a breath.

She looked up, her breath still labored, to see Loki looking at her with wide eyes. His expression was a mix of terror and wonder, as if she’d opened up the ground between them in an attempt to swallow him whole. “How did you do that?” It was as much an accusation as it was a question.

“I don’t... I didn’t...” Althea couldn’t find the words to respond. Whatever had just happened, whatever she had just done, was too much. She felt raw and unstable, thrown by the pulse of power still echoing through her. Her throat was completely healed, but she still struggled to breathe. She had to get away; away from this place, away from Loki and the pain she’d caused him. Her legs threatened to give way as she stood, swaying dangerously on the spot.

Exhaustion rose to meet her panic, a debilitating mixture that seemed intent on robbing her of her facilities. Loki made a move as if to steady her, but she backed away from his touch, terrified she might somehow hurt him again. Darkness began to creep into the edges of vision, blurring Loki’s face, obscuring his expression. She tried in vain to shake it away. “I’m sorry,” was all she managed before the inky black of unconsciousness overtook her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the cat's out of the bag, Althea can do more than just heal. I could write a book about all the things you don't know about this girl yet. Oh wait...
> 
> I'm going to warn you all right now, the next chapter is going to be a curveball. Hope you're all ready. 
> 
> The is also my weekly "thank you" to everyone who has made my first time delving into writing on this site such a good experience so far.


	15. Blue Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so very sorry I'm a week late posting this chapter. It was a difficult one to write for a lot of reasons. I hope it's worth the wait.

Her fingers were rapping on the desktop, the sharp staccato of her fingertips against the wood a clear sign that her patience was running thin. Dangerously thin. Careful not to move a muscle, he let his eyes flit between her drumming digits and the nervous individual currently losing her attention. It was the closest thing he could do to warning the man that he was out of time.

Whether clued in by the subtle movement or the growing tension in the air, the young courtier seemed to get the hint and finally handed over his report, abandoning his futile attempts to summarize the palace's finances. Svend held back a sigh of relief as the man backed out of the room, bowing deeply before scurrying into the relative safety of the hall. He moved to the door and dismissed the short line of advisors still waiting for an audience. The older members of the court, those with more experience, took the dismissal for what it was and turned on their heels swiftly. A few of the newer members, the ones who hadn’t yet learned the extent of the danger they could easily find themselves in, let out murmurs of protests, but they too soon departed. Everyone would be better served if they came back another day. Business was best conducted when the queen was in a better mood, and anyone who wanted to live a long life learned that quickly.

Svend was adept at reading Queen Skadi’s moods, a skill that had made him one of the longest-serving servants under her rule. His face betrayed none of his age, now long in the triple digits. Smooth porcelain skin stretched artfully over his sharp bone structure, his stature tall and lean. He looked like every elf in Alfheim, save for the queen herself.

He remembered when she’d come to the palace, King Dain’s bride-to-be.

_He was too young to understand let alone care about much of the gossip that surrounded her arrival, barely listening to his mother and the other cooks as he ran between their legs at play. They spoke in hushed tones as they worked, all hands busy preparing the evening’s feast in honor of stranger’s arrival. He caught fragments about an alliance, some apparent scheme cooked up between the old king and Asgard. The mention of another realm had been enough to make him stop and listen._

_“Odin suddenly has a mind for peace, they say,” his mother whispered, her hands busy beating a ball of dough into submission. “Wants to unite the nine realms through diplomacy rather than war.”_

_“Should have married off one of his own boys, that’s what I say,” grumbled another woman, wiping her hands roughly on a kitchen towel. She was one of the oldest elves Svend had ever seen, her face just starting to wrinkle with age. “Not right that he and his reap all the benefits of saddling us with a foreign queen. And one of_ **_them_ ** _, no less.”_

_Another woman leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes wide. “Have you ever seen one of them?”_

_“No and I don’t care to,” the older woman said forcefully. “Not in passing and certainly not married to our sweet Dain.”_

_“Hush now. Someone’s bound to hear if you don’t keep your voice down,” his mother warned, her eyes darting nervously about the kitchen._

_“And so what if they do,” the woman continued, unaffected. “I’m sure his highness is no happier than you or I...” She continued, but Svend had already snuck away. He’d heard enough to pique his curiosity and he made his way to the main gate in the hopes of catching a glimpse of their would-be queen._

_On a lower level, he found a crowded balcony. He wove through the legs of servants and royals alike, social status forgotten in the anticipation of the new arrival. He reached the balustrade and scrambled on top, securing a front-row view of the approaching procession. The ground below was no less occupied, the robes of the gathered mass growing more brightly colored and intricate the closer they were to the palace gates. Svend had never seen so many gathered in one place. Curiosity pulsed through the crowd, nervous, eager anticipation laced with an undercurrent of trepidation. He understood that odd mood as soon as she came into view._

_A litany of guards flanked her, their covered faces looking steadily forward, ignoring the curious onlookers gathered. The masks they wore unnerved him, a blank facsimile of an elven face, their large black eyes shining and unblinking._

_She strode towards the palace with a confident, elegant gait, her head held high; nothing like the nervous, blushing bride he’d expected. A long white braid swung in her wake, whipping out from side to side like a pale, venomous snake, ready to strike anyone who strayed too close. Her dress, simple and practical, was an unadorned swath of pitch black, serving to further accentuate her pale features._

_The elves gathered tried to smile welcomingly as she passed, but she did not return the gesture. She might have looked disinterested in the whole affair save for her bright, keen eyes. They swept over her guard, the anxious crowd, the palace in front of her, absorbing each in turn with intelligent precision. For a brief moment, her eyes locked onto his, the pale iciness of her gaze freezing the breath in his lungs. She was a terrifying beauty, unlike anyone he had ever seen._

A long count of years had passed since that day. So much had changed. He was a grown man now, his mother and the rest of the kitchen staff of his youth long gone and seldom remembered. The King was gone as well, his passing still quietly mourned across the realm, along with the carefree peace that had once been the signature of Alfheim.

Of his memory, only he and the foreign queen remained. Sometimes, when she looked at him, he still felt like that naive little boy; defenseless against her penetrating gaze.

She spared him that gaze now, instead flitting her eyes across the document in her hand. “It should be considered treason, the way they seek to bore me to death,” she mused, tossing the report carelessly onto the desk. Svend said nothing, afraid she was only half-joking. People had been executed for less than boring their queen. He didn’t want to encourage that train of thought, to have any part in encouraging more death.

She hadn’t always been this way. She’d never been kind exactly, but she hadn’t been ruthless either. Svend didn’t know what had changed, what had caused her ruthlessness. He’d only been able to adjust.

Thankfully she continued, unperturbed by his silence. “Dain may have been a useless fool, but at least he saved me from all this tedium.” Despite her disinterested tone, Svend could almost feel the anger rolling off of her in waves. With deft movements, she lifted a small dagger from the table, flipped it over in her palm, and stabbed through the document. When she pulled her hand away, Svend saw she had buried the blade up to the hilt into the desk. He silently thanked the Nords he’d sent everyone away for the day.

“A drink, your highness?”, he prompted. He didn’t wait for an answer but made his way over to the collection of vintages in the corner by the door. For her, a drink always marked the end of the day’s work, and he was certain she was in no mood to entertain any more business today. Her hum of approval sounded behind him. Svend allowed himself a secret, relieved smile. His own opinions of her aside, he was good at his job, and as long as that was the case, he was safe.

He was scanning over the selection, looking for the specific tannic, dry red that was her favorite, when the door behind him burst open.

The sudden intrusion startled him, and Svend narrowly avoided tipping over the empty glass he’d readied. He turned around, ready to rebuke whoever had the lack of sense to barge into the queen’s study unannounced.

In their haste, the interloper had left the door ajar, effectively blocking them from Svend’s view as they stood in the threshold, but he recognized the voice. The admonishment died on his lips. Svend turned back to the wine, careful to be as quiet as possible, hoping to avoid drawing attention to his presence.

“My queen, there has been activity on Midgard.”

From the corner of his eye, Svend saw Queen Skadi’s head shoot up. He furrowed his brow at the wine he was pouring, careful to do so as quietly as possible. Midgard? No one had been outside the realm, let alone Midgard, in hundreds of years; not since King Dain’s death.

“Shut the door,” she commanded, her tone laced with even more malice than usual.

Kullr stepped into the room, blindly closing the door behind him, his eyes never leaving the royal before him. Svend watched the man, the queen’s right hand and captain of her personal guard, steadily approach the desk.

Kullr was beautiful, even for an elf. He had the height, grace, and flawless bone structure of everyone in Alfheim, but through it all shone a brilliance that set him apart. His hair, a dark brown that bordered on black, cascaded down to his shoulders, natural waves effortlessly framing his chiseled face. Along with his thick brows, it stood in stark contrast to his eyes, their irises of light golden amber shining like two pools of honey. Below them, his pointed jaw framed full lips. In his youth, elves of both sexes had dreamed of those lips, that face, and the strong, capable body they belonged to.

He’d earned his position at the queen’s side after Dain’s passing. Most believed his looks had earned him the position; that the newly widowed queen had been as taken with the handsome elf as everyone else. Some even speculated he would become King Regent in due time.

If there was a romantic side to their relationship, Svend had never seen any evidence. The true reason for Kullr’s proximity to Queen Skadi was far more worrisome.

He was the only other being in the realm who’s cruelty matched her own.

“It’s been detected again, your highness,” Kullr continued cryptically.

For a moment she merely looked at him quizzically, but something in his expression seemed to clue her in. She stood quickly “Another?” Her face was the picture of rage. “I thought we’d eliminated the last of them.”

Svend’s hand trembled at her tone, the wine threatening to slosh out of the glass. Kullr, however, remained stoic, ready for the inevitable storm that raged before him.

“And you’re sure it’s not one of Odin’s brats? They seem to be quite taken with that squalid planet.”

“I’ve been assured it was not Asgardian. Naddoddr was quite certain.”

Svend’s furrowed brow only deepened. Naddoddr? The seer? Why would Naddoddr’s eye be turned to Midgard?

The queen’s curt command cut through the questions racing through his mind. “Then you know what has to be done. Take as many as you need. I want this finished. Once and for all.”

“My queen,” Kullr bowed. He turned to leave but stopped as soon as he saw Svend still shivering in the corner, the glass of wine almost forgotten in his hand.

Svend gulped as Kullr eye’s narrowed dangerously. The captain turned back to the queen, an unspoken question written across his face.

Skadi only sighed, sparing her servant a passing glance, and wove Kullr away. With a final nod, he turned once again to leave. As he passed, he shot Svend a cruel, toothy grin. Then he was gone.

Svend took a few steadying breaths. The weight in his hand finally reminded him of his task and he stepped over to the desk, set the glass down, and retreated a few steps.

She ignored the wine, her cool eyes staring blankly at the desktop in front of her. Svend could hear the sound of her teeth as she ground them together violently.

“Another in the long list of mistakes Dain has left for me to clean up,” she snarled.

Svend could not contain his curiosity. He’d known the king had frequented Midgard. Many elves had before Queen Skadi had declared such visitations unlawful upon her husband’s death. No one had left Alfheim in centuries.

She continued on, seemingly lost in thoughts of her own. “If only that oaf showed me half the attentions he showed to those insignificant pests. Perhaps then I wouldn’t have to concern myself with his dalliances and the… _evidence_ they left behind.”

He pondered over her curious phrasing. Suddenly, the truth she was skirting made itself evident to him. Without permission, he vocalized the realization.

“Oh.”

It was hardly a word, a single syllable that had breathily slipped past his lips.

The punishing glare she leveled him with made it clear it was one syllable too much.

“Nothing can leave this room,” she told him. Her tone was oddly level, a stark contrast to the blue fire of her eyes.

Svend did his best to wrestle his face back to the disinterested, uninteresting mask of his position. He nodded sharply, hoping to convey the weight of her command had not been lost on him. “I understand, my queen.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously before they softened, and small smile pulling at her lips. She finally reached for the glass of wine, swirling the contents as much as the full glass would allow. “I’m glad. You’ve served me well, Svend. It’s a shame, really. You’ve been one of the few presences I could tolerate.” She sighed, the sound something between frustration and regret, before taking a sip of the dark liquid.

Svend could not grasp her sudden change in mood, the compliments she’d never before vocalized. “My queen?”

Eyes closed, she took another sip, languidly letting the liquid coat her tongue, savoring it, before swallowing it down. Her eyes met his once more as she returned the glass to the desk.

“As I said. Nothing can leave this room.”

Her eyes, those two pale orbs shining with determination, were the last thing Svend ever saw with his own. With his last breath, he thought of fire, and how blue flames burned the hottest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you all it was going to be a curveball. We're getting into the nitty gritty of it now. 
> 
> Back to our intrepid heroes next chapter.


	16. That Makes Us Even

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't 100% where I'd like it to be, and it's certainly not 100% edited, but I hope the fact that I'm posting something at all after such a long time makes up for it.

She was still breathing, albeit shallowly. Loki’s hands hovered over her unconscious form, hesitant to make contact. Sinking back down, he sat beside her, wary to maintain his distance.

_Well, that was unexpected._

He could still taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. His hand instinctually rose to his throat as he swallowed tentatively, ready for the movement to cause another stab of pain, but his esophagus contracted without protest. Whatever she’d done to him, she’d undone just as thoroughly.

He was no stranger to defeat. He’d been beaten before, a few times in this building alone, in fact. Thor won just about every time Loki deigned to humor him by sparring. The monster had dealt the final blow that had ended his attempt to rule Midgard. But only one other being had ever made him feel _that_ helpless.

Just the tangental memory of that encounter sent an uncomfortable shudder through his limbs.

He tore away from the painful road such recollection would inevitably lead him down, choosing to focus on the problem at hand instead; namely, the unconscious woman who’d nearly killed him. His eyes scanned her body for any indication of the incredible power she’d just exerted over him but came up entirely empty-handed.

She looked even more fragile than when she’d first arrived, her face entirely void of color save for the deep dusky shadows blooming under her eyes. Even her lips had lost their usual rosy tint. She looked exhausted. No… drained.

Fighting against his own trepidation, he reached out and laid the back of his hand against her forehead. The skin there was clammy, a sheen of sweat rapidly cooling and adding to the unhealthy chill of her skin. He snatched his hand back, unwilling to maintain the intimate contact for any longer than absolutely necessary.

She hadn’t reacted to his touch. Part of him was thankful. He didn’t relish the idea of her awaking to find him leaning over her in such a compromising position. Whether that was for his own benefit of hers, he couldn’t quite say. On the other hand, he worried over the fact that she still hadn’t stirred. In the handful of times he'd seen her use her healing, she'd emerged seemingly unaffected. This, no doubt, was unusual. 

He looked around the room, contemplating his next move. He couldn’t just leave her here. He could just imagine how the others would react if they found out he’d left their new recruit passed out on the floor. More than that, he _wanted_ to make sure she was alright, to ease his own mind.

There was nothing for it. As smoothly as possible he lifted her, cradling her in his arms, and made his way out of the room.

——————————————————————————————————————————

_Tired_. The feeling weighed on Althea like a stone slab. She could see a bright light, tinted red by the thin blood vessels of her closed eyelids. It was unlike her to leave the lights on, so she guessed it must be late in the morning. It didn’t seem worth the effort of opening her eyes to find out. Stubborn against the prospect of waking fully, she tried to roll away from the obtrusive light. Her body felt too heavy, as if she were moving underwater. The attempt forced an undignified groan from her lips.

“I was beginning to think you’d never wake.”

She wasn’t alone. Panic-induced adrenaline fought to replace her exhaustion as her eyes flew open. The lights were, in fact, on; their fluorescent glow harshly illuminating her room, as well as the figure standing at the foot of her bed.

“Loki?”, she croaked, her voice hoarse from sleep. With no small amount of effort, she pushed herself into a seated position.“What are you doing here?”

Loki shrugged noncommittally, as though his presence in her room, while she slept, was nothing out of the ordinary. “Someone had to make sure you weren’t dead. Considering everyone else is still gone, that unenviable task fell to me.”

In her confusion, Althea let the insult slide. “What happened?”

“I was rather hoping you would tell me,” he countered, sitting down on the corner of the mattress. His posture remained rigid, and Althea noted that he’d perched himself on the very edge as if to keep as much distance between them as possible.

She racked her brain, trying to grasp at what Loki seemed to be dancing around, the reason for his stiff demeanor. Tony’s message. Breakfast. The morning came back to her slowly at first, small vignettes stitching themselves into a fuller picture. The training room. Staves. It was coming back to her steadily. Her eyes scanned the bedspread draped across her lap, as though organizing the timeline on the sea of fabric. Loki had let her strikes land without protest but wasn’t satisfied with her weak hits. He’d goaded her on.

No, more than goaded.

Althea’s stomach clenched as she remembered each insult he’d hurdled her way; her face reddening in embarrassment as if she was experiencing it all again for the first time. But even his harshest jab had paled in comparison to what _she’d_ done.

The bedspread was gone, replaced by Loki’s face: his skin discolored with strain, eyes bloodshot and panicked, blood trickling steadily from his lips. Tears leapt to her eyes, but they did nothing to blur the horrifying image seared into her memory.

“Are those tears for me?”

She looked up, frantically attempting to blink the tears from her eyes, equally desperate and afraid to see his face. When her vision cleared enough to take him in, she saw no trace of the frantic, pained expression from her memory. Rather, Loki looked perfectly fine, even amused.

“I might be flattered if you hadn’t just tried to kill me a few hours ago.”

“Tried to… you think I can control this? You think I wanted to do that to you?”, she protested, her voice breaking.

“No, I am painfully aware of your lack of control.” He rubbed his neck to accentuate his point. “And as for the second question: yes. I believe that’s exactly what you wanted to do.”

“What?” She balked at his accusation.

“You said it yourself. You wanted me to stop,” he said simply, reminding Althea of her desperate pleas. “More than that, it was written all over your face. I’ve seen it often enough to know. You had murder in your eyes.”

Althea absorbed his insight, her head hung low. He was right. She’d wanted him to shut up, to stop his ceaseless barrage of insults, each truer than the last. She’d wanted to lash out, to give into the unhinged anger he’d been trying to get her to put behind her attacks. But something, something in her, had stopped her. Or rather, beaten her to the punch.

“I expected you to fight,” he continued as if reading her thoughts. “But just how you went about it … I’ll admit that took me by surprise.”

“I don’t blame you.” He put his hands up in feigned surrender, a sly grin on his face. “You wouldn’t be the first person to try to strangle me because of something I said.”

She scrambled for an apology, something appropriate to say in light of what she'd done. “You’re right. I was upset… but I just wanted you to shut up. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never do that on purpose.”

“So you keep saying,” he replied flatly. “You cling to this notion that you're simply here to heal, that you’d never hurt another; but we both know that’s not the truth of it, is it? By your own admission, this isn’t the first time you’ve utilized violence. If I recall, that is how you discovered you could apply your power to others in the first place.”

Ceaseless burning, blood running down a man’s neck, the scalpel still clutched tightly in her first. The day seemed determined to drag as many painful memories as possible from the recesses of her memory.

“Even the most loyal dog will lash out and bite if it’s beaten enough,” Loki continued. Althea, still raw from his bevy of insults earlier, did not register the softness with which he spoke this last line, nor the understanding, almost tender expression he wore.

“I get it, Loki. I’m nothing more than an animal to you. You don’t have to keep repeating it.”

Loki managed to look contrite at that. “I only meant to say that you shouldn’t be ashamed. Fighting back, it’s a natural reaction.” The sincerity of his voice kept Althea from issuing forth the retort she’d been preparing. “As for what I said before, well, _you know_ … I was only trying to pull out the aggression you seem to bury so deep within yourself. Which, if I might add, I succeeded in doing. Spectacularly so.” He shot her a cocky grin. Althea’s lip only twitched, unamused, in response.

With a sigh, he continued, “I didn’t mean for it to…” He looked pointedly up at the ceiling as though searching for the right words, though she suspected he was simply trying to avoid eye contact. “Well, I didn’t mean it.”

Althea met him with a dubious look. “I don’t know, Loki. It sounded like you believed everything you said. Like it was true.”

“Take it from the Prince of Lies, darling,” Like gestured to himself dramatically, as if there was any question to whom the moniker belonged. “All good lies are rooted in truth. Often the only difference between a truth and a lie is the emotion behind it.”

“It still hurt, regardless,” Althea replied in a small voice.

Loki considered her shrewdly before speaking. “I’d say that makes us even then, wouldn’t you?”

She could only nod meekly in response. Of course. She’d very nearly killed him. Surely that outweighed a few harsh words. Still, she felt some measure of relief at Loki’s assurance that he did not, in fact, despise her, even if he didn’t come right out and say it.

Loki, too, seemed to have relaxed. His posture, though still impeccably straight, was markedly less stiff. He eased back a few inches onto the mattress, his usual mischievous air falling back into place. “Now, if that’s settled, I think we need to discuss this new ability of yours.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

“Sir, there has been some activity at the tower that may be of some concern,” Jarvis’s voice sounded loud and clear inside the suit’s helmet. Between the helmet and one gauntlet, Tony was half suited up, finishing one of the last welds on the interior of the Quinjet.

Tony kept his focus on following the line of disjointed metal with the steady blue laser. “What now?”, he grumbled. “I’m just about to finish cleaning up after our big green bull in my expensive china shop.”

A few feet away, Bruce looked up from the panel of wires he’d been soldering. “I said I was sorry!”

Tony cut off the laser’s beam, the weld now complete, before looking pointedly at his friend. Despite the impassive mask shielding his face, Bruce seemed to get the idea and turned back to his work. Silently, Tony turned off the external speaker. He sat on the floor and leaned against the wall, care

“What, did the kids decide to throw a party while mom and dad are out of town?”

“It did not appear to be a celebration of any kind, sir.”

Jokes never landed with Jarvis. Just another member in the ever-growing, unappreciative audience he surrounded himself with these days. “What’s going on, then?”

The split second’s pause before Jarvis’s answer was enough to pique Tony’s interest; the answer itself only intensifying his curiosity. “I’m not precisely sure, sir. Nothing in my database appears to pertain to such an occurrence.

Not unheard of, but certainly rare. “Do you have visual?”

“Right away, sir.”

The viewscreen was instantly filled with a recording of the training room. The two figures were dwarfed by the sheer expanse of the room, but Tony still recognized Althea and Loki’s forms. Both were holding long staves, impractical training weapons he’d never actually seen anyone use.

“I’ve got to talk to that girl about the company she keeps.” He made a mental note to do just that. He’d been hesitant to leave Althea, fresh and naive as she was, alone with Loki for a multitude of reasons, but none of them had included the two of them becoming close. It almost worried him more than any of his other imagined scenarios.

He watched as Althea struck out at Loki. He waited for Loki to lash out in response, now certain that was the reason Jarvis had brought this to his attention, but to his surprise, her blows were met with no retaliation. Each time she attacked her strikes seemed more powerful, more determined, yet Loki did not react. _Show off._ All at once, the onslaught stopped. It looked like they were arguing. No surprise there.

And then Loki fell to his knees, his hands grasping at his neck. Tony leaned forward as if for a closer look, temporarily forgetting that the image being projected in his helmet moved with him.

It looked as though Althea had incapacitated Loki, though for the life of him he couldn’t figure out how she’d managed it. They’d been standing yards apart and she hadn’t moved. Tony watched the scene play out, his eyes narrowed in confusion. He watched her rush to Loki’s side, only to fall back shortly after. A few more moments passed and she got to her feet, her struggle to do so evident even in the recording, before passing out cold.

Loki hovered for a few minutes, his expression unreadable. Then he lifted Althea’s limp body and walked out of frame with her in his arms.

“Jarvis. What the hell was that?”

He was repeating the question. Jarvis, in turn, repeated his answer. “Insufficient data available to form a concrete deduction.”

“Where did he take her?”, he pressed.

“Back to her room, sir. It appears they are both still there.”

Tony ripped the helmet off, deaf to whatever else Jarvis might have to add. Bruce was looking at him with open interest. If Tony’s body language as he watched the recording hadn’t adequately conveyed his distress, his unmasked expression left no room for doubt.

“Is this thing good to fly?”

Bruce faltered for a moment before answering, thrown off by his friend’s sudden change in attitude. “Uh, it’ll fly, sure, but we still need to make a few adjustments to the…”

“Whatever you’re about to say can wait. Get the others. We’re heading back _now_.” Tony stalked past to the flight controls, prepping the craft for takeoff.

“Tony, what’s going on?” The distress was evident in Bruce’s voice now. Still, Stark paid him no mind.

“Get Thor first. I need to talk to him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, and sorry again for the long wait between chapters. Not a day goes by where I don't feel the immense guilt of leaving you all hanging.   
> Additional sorry that I made you wait so long for this drivel.


End file.
